Chasing The Moon
by BluePhoenix14
Summary: HUNTING THE STARS #2. As the rebels recover from a shocking betrayal, conflict rages relentlessly on multiple planets. With Lukas begging to go to war, Yao is torn between keeping him safe and letting him fight. Lovino and Feliciano, threatened by a mercenary, must stay under the radar to survive. And the question of what to do with the bounty hunters and their friends remains...
1. A Shadow in the Eaves

**WELCOME BACK EVERYBODY!**

 **I hope you're all ready for this insane thing to get started! I know it's been a while since HTS ended, so I'll provide you all with a potentially useful, free-of-charge, not-nearly-as-detailed-as-it-could-be refresher course on Part 1. If you want a refresher on characters, it can found on my Tumblr; huntingthestarsandetc**

 **doopy-doo enjoy a recap-a-roo**

 **\- Matthias, Feliks, Alfred, Francis, Antonio, Ivan, Gilbert, Louise, Berwald are a tight-knit group of friends and bounty hunters. They work together and live on the planet of Reycass. Matthias is their leader, Feliks is his second in command.**

 **\- After realising that they need to pay off a few expenses, they endeavour to hunt down and capture one of the five royals of the 'Free Courts', whose bounties are in the billions.**

 **\- Their first stop in their search is Aralos, a desert planet. Also on the planet at the time are the Bondevik siblings, Lukas and Emilia, who are among the sought-after royals.**

 **\- On Rela, two of the five royals - brothers Lovino and Feliciano Vargas - live peacefully. Lovino has lied to his brother about their origins in order to keep him safe, and Feliciano is unaware that he is actually Syhvvanian royalty.**

 **\- While on Aralos, Feliks meets a scavenger named Tori, and befriends her. She ends up joining their crew.**

 **\- Over on the planet of Nyma, members of the resistance mobilise after learning that one of their most valuable fighters, Elizabeta, has been captured by a group of pirates. Among those tasked to bring her back are Matthew, Abel, Carlotta, Kari and Bella. The leader of the resistance is a mysterious but respected man named Yao.**

 **\- After breaking down briefly on the planet of Misor due to some fruit-related damages, the bounty hunter crew is forced to land at an Anchorage owned by the planet of** **Galee. While there, they encounter a group of pirates headed by the infamous Arthur Kirkland. He and Francis have an unpleasant relationship, though the specifics are unknown. It is Arthur's crew who have captured Elizabeta.**

 **\- Lovino finally tells Feliciano the truth about his past and identity. He takes the news fairly well, and Lovino starts training him how to fight.**

 **\- Lukas and Emilia, after a long journey, disguise themselves as refugees and finally arrive at the resistance.**

 **\- After further mechanical troubles plague the bounty hunters, they hitch a ride with the pirates, as one of them, Roderich, is Gilbert's cousin. While travelling together, the rebels attack their ship. In addition to rescuing Elizabeta, they also capture Tori, Gilbert, Feliks and Roderich to hold ransom.**

 **\- Yao, the rebels' leader, admits to Tino, a sniper, that there is a spy in the resistance who has been leaking information to the Union, the group of authoritarian-governed planets who they oppose.**

 **\- Lovino and Feliciano befriend one of their neighbours, an assassin named Vash Zwingli.**

 **\- Injured and in disarray, the bounty hunters and pirates plan to get their friends back by travelling to Nyma - the base of rebel operations - and pay the bounty set by the resistance.**

 **\- After running into brief trouble on** **Galee due to Gilbert having been the result of an incestuous relationship, the rebels arrive back on Nyma. Kari, who formerly worked in the palace on Fynkn, reunites happily with Lukas after almost 11 years.**

 **\- The bounty hunters + pirates arrive on Rela seeking a highly talented mercenary - Vash - to help guide them through Nyma's dangerous landscape. They arrive at his house and meet him, and manage to convince him to help them. They briefly meet his neighbour, Lovino, but are unaware of his identity.**

 **\- The conspiracy within the resistance about the spy deepens after an innocent girl is accused of espionage. They receive a canister about some of the details of the spy, and this leads some, including Vice-General Octavia Papadopoulos, to suspect Yao of wrongdoing.**

 **\- Lovino and Feliciano are frightened and confused after the bounty amounts of all five royals increases.**

 **\- The group of bounty hunters and pirates, in addition to Vash, depart for Nyma. Their mission begins badly, as Matthias is injured on the journey into the atmosphere, and Arthur starts to exhibit signs of illness.**

 **\- The tension in the resistance reaches a peak as Yao is accused of espionage and treachery by Octavia, and is promptly jailed. After being briefly captured by a hostile mountain tribe, the group of criminals are escorted to the resistance, but are turned on and thrown into prison.**

 **\- After hearing about a plan to execute the new prisoners (the criminal group) a group of rebels loyal to Yao pledge to save them. They include Matthew, Lukas, Emilia, Elizabeta, Kari, a legendary Admiral named Ayshe Kartal and several others.**

 **\- The group of criminals are successfully saved and hidden away. Matthew is forced to shoot one of his comrades in order to succeed. They are concealed in an old shipping container in the forest. Arthur grows consistently sicker and weaker.**

 **\- After attempting to escape despite the rebels' kindness to them, several secrets are discovered; it is found out that Matthew is Alfred's long-lost older brother, that Arthur has a vicious terminal disease called Chalydrantis, and the group also discover the presence of Lukas in the base.**

 **\- Yao's trial starts. He is forced to disclose many details about his life, including his relationship with the former leader of the resistance, Arshad Teymouri, details about his family and life on home planet of Yan, and horrific recollections of torture and abuse he suffered on the prisoner ship the SS Arbiter. He is acquitted of his espionage charges, and is apologised to by Octavia.**

 **\- Lukas determines that the real spy is a manipulative and highly intelligent Major named Zev Batbayaryn. He is arrested and thrown in prison as the rebels celebrate Yao's exoneration. Yao forgives Octavia for her accusations.**

 **\- Matthew and Alfred catch up. Arthur explains the extent of his illness to the others, and they get moved to a much nicer cell block. Lukas' friends at the resistance accept him after discovering his true identity after the trial.**

 **\- Matthew is sentenced to 2 months of suspension for killing another rebel. Lovino and Feliciano endeavour to end their criminal activity and get real jobs in order to fall under the radar in light of the bounty change.**

 **\- Ivan, who stayed behind with the ship when the others travelled through the mountains, joins them back at the resistance. Arthur is offered a deal by Yao.**

 **\- I left you all on a cliffhanger because I love being evil :D**

 **doopy-doo recap over**

 **Note: Chapter 1 took place on the 5th of Janwir (January). Chapter 38 ended on the 1st of Apryl (April, duh). The current year is 4512CC.**

 **Please review! You give me life!**

* * *

 _Decambyr, 4497CC_

 _"What are we meant to do about this?"_

 _"I don't know. There's no standard procedure for when something like this happens! The last person was my grandmother…I barely knew her!"_

 _"Aren't you meant to know about these sorts of things?"_

 _"I am, but it became very clear when I was young that I wasn't going to be chosen at all. I don't know what to do. No blood exchange was made…"_

 _"So, what, you propose we ignore this? Oskar, how is that supposed to help anything? I'm no expert on the subject, but even I know that this is unusual. For any of the nine to show an interest, much less for it to be Vidunder…"_

 _"I know, Astrid. I'm not saying that we should do nothing. But what does it prove?"_

 _"It proves that our son is different to us. Different in a way that, for once, they actually respect. That woman predicted this, she said that something along these lines would happen!"_

 _"She also predicted that I would 'see my own heart in someone else's hand'. I'm not sure that I'd put so much faith in her."_

 _"Oskar…"_

 _"Astrid, we need to think long and hard about this. It does no-one any good to make a big fuss out of the whole thing. Our son wasn't harmed, and nor was anyone else."_

 _"I know that…"_

 _"Astrid, I love you to death. You know that. But I feel that we should just let this slide. There is no point scaring him about something which might never come to fruition."_

 _"Alright, we'll let it slide. But I have to insist that he has his aptitude testing early."_

 _"Fair enough."_

 _"Oskar…?"_

 _"Yes, my love?"_

 _"Does it scare you too? The idea of what this means?"_

 _"…It does. I feel like it always will."_

* * *

 _Szwicza District,_  
 _Bibesti, Rela,_  
 _24_ _th_ _Maii, 4512CC_

"Just focus on the very end of it. Don't pay attention to me, just keep your eyes on the thread."

A beat of silence passed. Nothing happened, and Feliciano let out a disappointed huff.

"I can't do it!" he exclaimed, disappointment woven throughout his words. "I told you, I'm no good at it."

Lovino frowned a little, lowering the bunch of threads he was holding in his hands. He had pulled them from the fraying ends of a few pieces of his clothing and tied them all together at one end. He had held them in front of his younger brother's face and watched as Feliciano tried and failed to set them on fire. He schooled his expression into calm, trying not to let on how confused and, admittedly, disappointed that he was too. They'd been at it for weeks, yet his brother wasn't improving.

His telekinesis was working fine – he had managed to lift a book with his mind on only their third day trying, but something about the _Fuenar_ – the Syhvvanian gift to create and control fire, was elusive for his brother. Lovino could create flames as easily as he breathed, and make heat shimmer in waves off his body. But Feliciano was, for some reason, having trouble. His natural resistance to heat and fire was working fine (thank goodness), but he had yet to conjure even the smallest and most delicate of flames.

Lovino scooped up the book which he had propped against the door, peering at the page curiously. The book had been endlessly helpful, though Lovino was also drawing on his memories of being taught to try and help his younger brother. He frowned at the title; An Inclusive Summary of the Syhvvanian _Rigelo_. It was inclusive, all right, sometimes even to the point of annoyance. Sighing, he flipped through the many thick pages, eyes swerving down the text-crammed paragraphs. The tome had the occasional drawing or photo scattered here and there, but other than that, it at most times presented a huge wall of text.

Cursing softly, he let out a small noise of satisfaction as he finally came across the section he sought. Skimming over it, he nodded and peered at his brother over the top of the book. Feliciano had been plagued by anxiety and concern over not being able to summon fire, though Lovino had told him, several times, that it wasn't unusual for a Vargas to have trouble

"Feli, listen to this." He raised his voice slightly as his brother turned to him curiously. "Queen Isidora's difficulty in utilising the _Fuenar_ continued into her later life, even after the great control she was seen to be exerting over the _Sopra kwistjoni_. Conversely, her twin sister Elidora displayed great prowess in the use of the _Fuenar_ , and limited responsiveness to any attempts to exercise telekinetic power." He lowered the book. "See? It's not unusual to struggle with one or the other. Besides, your control with your telekinesis is still pretty good, so you shouldn't be worrying as much as you are."

Feliciano sighed. "I know, I just…I want to be able to fight like you do." Lovino's expression softened.

"Hey now, you already fight like me. You've been getting better and better with hand-to-hand combat, remember? Just give yourself time. You've never done this before, so it's not surprising that you've hit a few bumps in the road." Feliciano heaved a great sigh but finally nodded.

"Okay, if you say so." Lovino nodded softly, closing the book and shoving it to the side. He cast a look at the clock and cursed softly as he registered the time; 1:13 am. Feliciano followed his gaze, expression immediately crumpling into regret and apology. Lovino held up a hand to silence him.

"Don't even start." He groaned as he dragged himself to his feet. As part of their plan to lessen their criminal activity, Lovino had found two relatively decent jobs and been lucky enough to land both. It wasn't a positive impact on his sleep schedule – one was at a factory, where he worked from 10 am to 7 pm; the second was working the graveyard shift at a small convenience store from 2 am to 7 am. The only time that he got to sleep nowadays was between 7 at night and 2 am, as well as a small catnap during the day if he was lucky. He had spent up three of those valuable sleep hours by trying to help his brother.

Feliciano still had a guilty look on his face. His younger brother had also succeeded in getting a job – he worked as a waiter at a small café a few blocks into the Veroda District. Though it made good money, Feliciano worked far fewer hours than Lovino, and for whatever reason, seemed to feel guilty over it.

Lovino wandered, somewhat dazed, around their apartment, pulling on some warmer clothes. In Bibesti, winter fell in the middle of the year, and the nights had been growing colder and colder for months. He pulled on the gloves and cap which he had been given for his 20th birthday, just a few months ago, as well as a worn-out scarf which let in just as much cold air as it kept out, and also dug out his boots from where he had kicked them off earlier. Almost instinctively, his hand went to his neck to ensure that the rose-gold pendant still hung there. He sighed in relief when he felt its familiar shape in his hand, and finally turned to go.

"I'll be back at 7, okay? Rest up a little, you have to work later, too. If you need anything, just ask Sadik." Feliciano nodded. Lovino gave him the same lecture every day, but he was yet to ignore it.

Sighing, and trying to brace himself for five hours of boredom and likely emptiness, he made his way out.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,_  
 _Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma_  
 _25_ _th_ _Maii_

It was strange, looking around their small, cramped cell now, that they had once managed to fit seventeen people in here. It was cramped even now, and there was almost nothing even resembling privacy. Remembering that just seven weeks ago there had been several more people in here seemed bizarre. The cell still didn't feel empty, even with so many gone.

Really, in hindsight, it should have been expected that one or more people wouldn't stick around the whole time. But given the physical conditions of some of them, it was more likely that one of them would die or have to be evacuated due to injury or illness. The one thing, really, which Matthias hadn't really anticipated…was that people would leave of their own free will.

Arthur had been the first to go.

He hadn't jumped at the resistance's offer immediately, which had surprised Matthias. He didn't know the pirate immensely well, but he knew him well enough to see that what he desired, more than anything else, was simply to live. But after speaking to the intimidating Yanishman named Yao, the Pyndaphian had spent days in thoughtful silence, his expression often cast with conflict and rigid with indecision.

It had taken three days before he had quietly asked their guard if she would fetch the resistance's callous-seeming leader. Not even a half hour later, the cell door had swung open, and Matthias had watched the Yanishman help Arthur down the corridor. The pirate had cast a single, mournful look back at them, but ultimately, he had made his decision. The blond, whether for better or worse, was now a worker in the resistance's vast army.

The next to leave hadn't been surprising. Matthias had seen how they'd clung to him in moments of fear, confusion and anger. Try as they might to display an image of independence and strength, every time the situation had turned bad, they had turned to him. Mei and Leon had spoken to the man, Yao, for hours, then taken a minute to farewell their crewmates, and had loyally followed their captain into the realm of rebel fighters.

The fourth…that had hurt a little. But Matthias had also, in a way, been anticipating it. Before the decision had been made, he'd looked conflicted and worried every day. Matthias had ignored it the first few times, determined to believe that he would stay with them. As a few days had passed, though, he had started to look more and more unhappy, joy brought only in the hours when a now-familiar face had appeared behind the bars. It wasn't completely unexpected, and of everyone, Matthias understood his reasoning the best…but it had still stung to watch Alfred leave them as well.

They'd gone about a fortnight without anyone else leaving after that. Matthias had let himself believe that that was the end of it – no-one else would be tempted to leave. That was, until, he'd found out about Tori. More specifically, her odd connection to Lukas Bondevik. No-one had had a good explanation for the fact that she seemed to know him, save Feliks, who had murmured his suspicions to Matthias late one night. Their only other option had been to ask the Fynknian, which none of them had been keen on doing.

They hadn't needed to ask, as it turned out, just wait, as he had shown up outside their cell one day, eyes fixed on the rough girl. Matthias remembered how the teen had knelt down, holding eye contact with her, as she had started to ask questions.

"Have we met before?"

"Yes. A long time ago, though. We knew each other when we were kids."

It had continued along that thread for some time, before she came to what Matthias had initially dismissed as the most irrelevant of her questions.

"Is there anything significant about the word 'vika'?"

"It was your nickname." Tori's brow had furrowed at that.

"…Nickname? How? My name is Tori."

"That was another nickname." Had been his short response. At her questioning look, he had elaborated. "Your full name, as I remember it, anyway, is Viktorija. You used both nicknames."

Feliks had closed his eyes and let his head fall back at this point, and even Matthias had felt a small shockwave go through him. Tori, however, had been unaware of the significance of this, and had continued to ask questions.

"My first name was- _is_ , Viktorija?"

"Yes." He had paused then, watched her for a moment, then nodded. "Oh, you have amnesia. That explains it."

"Do…do you know what my full name is?" she had asked, sounding tentative and hopeful. Lukas had nodded, reluctantly. It was clear just looking at Tori that she legitimately had forgotten her own name.

"Viktorija Kamile Laurinaitis. I may have remembered your middle name wrong, though, so don't quote me on that." She had nodded, clearly not realising what bombshell he had just dropped on all of them. Lukas had sighed. "Yes, you definitely have amnesia. I suppose it's only fair to inform you that the Laurinaitis family – your family – are Daernic royalty."

She had frozen then, looking completely bewildered. "What?" she'd asked, sounding shocked. "What did you say?"

In lieu of a response, Lukas had pulled a Cell from his pocket, drawn up her profile on the Index, and shown it to her. Tori had gone silent for a long time after that.

"You're wrong." She had said. "This…this is all wrong…"

"Then how do you explain knowing me?" Lukas had responded coolly. "The only Daernic person I ever knew was Viktorija Laurinaitis. We knew each other because there is a very close relationship between the three Free Courts. Our parents travelled to visit one another all the time, and they brought us with them." Tori had looked to Feliks then as if he would deny everything that the Fynknian had been saying. Feliks had just sighed sadly and nodded.

Lukas had frowned at her. "You really don't believe me." He'd sat back for a moment, before rummaging around in his pockets. "Perhaps this will convince you." With that, he had pulled, of all things, a rock from his coat. Tori's eyes had gone to it immediately, expression transforming into something like…desperation.

"That…what is that?" she had croaked out, staring at it. Lukas had raised an eyebrow at her.

"Each of the royal families of the Free Courts has the power to manipulate an element. Syhvvanians control fire, Fynknians control water and Daernics control the earth." He held up the rock. "You want it, don't you?" she had nodded, still staring with an odd, mixed longing.

"What is it? Why…why do I want it so much?" she had asked. Lukas watched her a moment, then tossed the rock to her.

"It's nothing special. It's just a rock. The only thing which distinguishes it from every other rock on this planet is that that one came from Daerna. Though the gifts of a Free Court royal work wherever you go, they are always strongest when we're on our home planets." He had stood, brushing himself off a little. "You're welcome to continue to deny who you really are, but when you finally get sick of lying to yourself, just ask for Yao or myself." Without another word, he had turned on his heel and left.

Tori had vanished from their cell with Yao not even two days later. Matthias couldn't blame her. To learn something so earth-shattering about yourself…if it was him, he would have gone to the one person who had answers as well. Besides, though she was fun and good in a fight, he hadn't really been that close to her. Feliks had been the most disappointed of them by far, his low mood only buoyed briefly by the fact that Tori had kissed him on the cheek as she'd left.

For the next few weeks after that, they had lingered around their cell, trying to pass the time by playing card-games and sharing old stories. But card-games quickly got boring, and they all only had so many stories to share. They had all started to slowly lapse into depression. Then, about a fortnight after she had vanished, Tori had re-appeared outside their cell. Not to rejoin them inside, but to talk to them. She had told them about what life in the resistance was like. She'd obviously seen that they were all becoming depressed, because she had come back every day since, regaling them with stories of the people she met, and the weird gossip from around the base.

Try as he might to focus on her stories alone and be grateful for her efforts, he hadn't been able to ignore that every day she saw them, she looked happier and happier. The resistance was treating her well, and she was clearly making friends quickly. Though he maintained a happy, pleasant, air, it was also obvious that Feliks grew a little more jealous with every mention of Lukas. Matthias felt for him.

It had been especially obvious after she had shown them the progress she had made. One of the Daernic gifts was earth, and Tori had delightedly shown them how she had learned to move rocks and soil through the air. It was an impressive display, without a doubt, but Feliks had looked downcast afterwards. Upon asking him, his answer had fairly stunned Matthias.

"Lukas can do things for her that I can't. No matter what I do, I'd never be able to teach her how to do something like that. The fact is, I'm ordinary. They aren't."

Though boredom and depression had still reigned king even with Tori's visits, Matthias had at least fallen into a sort of pattern. He had hoped that they would stay the same. He had, as with the others, failed to spot the longing glances cast out the window, the almost day-dreaming expression whenever Tori came around with her stories. He had failed to spot any signs that yet another one of his friends was wanting to leave, not for long-lost family or memories or tough-struck deals, but for the sheer desire to fight the Union.

He had spotted it far too late to change his mind, though. A fight had broken out between Gilbert and Vash which had left the albino with a deep, shiv-caused gash on his cheek and a bruised collarbone. The rebels had sent a medic along. Matthias had watched his friend's face turn white after a tall, grey-skinned Garvich had walked into their cell. She had introduced herself to them as Ailseth, and given them a good lecture about fighting and all getting along, before giving Vash the all-clear and moving on to Gilbert. She had noticed his fear and tutted at him.

"Oh darling, no, I don't care who your parents were. Come on now, let me see that cut." She'd tended to a slowly-relaxing Gilbert, and even patted him gently on the top of the head before again warning them about fighting, and sweeping from the cell. He had seemed oddly still after that, and Matthias had finally risked a look over at his friend only to see a bizarre expression on his face.

Matthias had felt a lurching in his gut, combined with an overwhelming sense of denial. A constant stream of _no, no, no, no_ had echoed around his head, almost mocking him. He hadn't understood why, but a sort of fear, combined with a deep-seated sense of betrayal, had filled him. Gilbert had shifted a little then, and looked into his eyes, and Matthias understood what his intuition had seen before his conscious thought had. He had seen the same look in his eyes which had lingered in Alfred's, and even Tori's gazes.

"You want to leave, too?" he had said, in far angrier a tone than he had wanted. The others had all turned to stare at the two of them as Gilbert flinched and moved away, avoiding Matthias' gaze guiltily.

"It was just a passing thought, okay? Calm down." But Matthias knew that he was lying. He watched him like a hawk over the next few days, and he saw what he had failed to see before. Gilbert was very much so interested in joining the resistance.

It still took a week before he had begun to cautiously ask their occasional guard some questions. But Matthias was under no impression that he wouldn't leave. He saw the longing whenever he heard stories of rebel exploits, and even the faltering and hesitant, but definitively present, admiration whenever the albino laid eyes on Alfred's older brother. Eventually, Gilbert had given in to his own wants and had also slipped out the door, escorted by a rebel fighter who had looked delighted at his decision.

That had been three days ago, and Matthias still felt the sharp sting of betrayal, even now. He tilted his head back, pressing it to the cool stone behind him. Being locked up in here was beginning to drive him mad. The others seemed equally as unhappy as him, though they were admittedly grateful for space which they had gained through their friends leaving. There were eleven of them in the cell now, rather than the original seventeen.

He sighed. Their numbers had dwindled significantly in just the past seven weeks. In all of that time, the rebels had failed to come up with some sort of solution to their problem. It was becoming pretty clear to Matthias that, unless they came up with a plan, he was going to die in here.

* * *

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's far too dangerous."

"You said that you might let me go when I was older!"

"I-, Lukas, your birthday was all of a week ago. Nineteen isn't very old at all."

Lukas folded his arms, glaring at Yao. He had an insurmountable amount of respect for the man, it was true, and objectively speaking, he could understand why he was reluctant to let Lukas do what he wanted, but he was frustrated nonetheless. He had been begging Yao to let him do more for the rebel efforts in the past few weeks, and Yao had actually relented. He had amped up Lukas' training with Nelia, and also made him do lessons on shooting with Tino.

He had also been involved in some more different projects around the rebel base. He had been permitted to join a convoy travelling out into the Gafadari Grasslands, though he had been a part of the explosives division, and as such hadn't been permitted to go near the front lines other than laying bombs and building new ones. Lukas was itching to do more, though. He had been pressing and pressing Yao to let him be more involved, but the General was of the opinion that it was simply too risky.

"Think about it this way," Yao said, "I let you go out into an active battle zone. Because of my orders, you are put into a high-danger situation. What could potentially happen if you were put in a high danger situation?" Lukas remained silent, knowing exactly what Yao was alluding to.

"You could die, Lukas, and that would be on me. Your death would be my fault. You need to remember that you can't look out purely for yourself anymore. You're one of the last surviving members of the Bondevik family. What would happen if you died?"

"What, because I'm the heir?" he asked. "Please. Emilia is just as much a Bondevik as I am. So long as one of us stays alive, it doesn't really matter."

Yao's expression was odd, cool but also concerned. "Do you really care so little about your own life?"

"It's not about that. It's a simple fact that Emilia could just as easily do what I do now."

"Lukas, I think you've failed to see how much your sister relies on you. Argue all you want but she is only 15 years old. For most of her life, you have been her primary guardian and carer. Everything that she's learned, she's learned from you. You yourself are independent, but I doubt that Emilia would fare half as well as yourself. You were always raised with the expectation that you would rule. Emilia wasn't. She knows how to _lead_ , but not how to be a _leader_. It is, quite frankly, cruel and presumptuous of you to try and force a role like that on her, simply because you want to be more involved."

Lukas gritted his teeth, trying to maintain his calm composure. "Yao, do you want to know something about my parents?" he didn't wait for an answer, instead, ploughing onwards. "They were good leaders, yes, and they were respected for their diplomatic skills. But while they were off having meetings with planetary leaders, the people of Fynkn were sharing their concerns about the Union. They knew that there was another plan of attack in the Union's arsenal. But my parents refused to acknowledge what the people thought, and look what happened then."

Yao was silent, watching him carefully. Lukas continued. "Sir, I understand why you don't want me in the field, but you yourself have said that I'm a useful addition to your side. That I'm a weapon which could wreak havoc on the Union. So, _let_ _me_ wreak havoc. I know that I'm hardly going to win this war by myself, but if can't fight at all, what's the purpose of having me here? Honestly, sir, if you had a high-grade rifle sitting around, you wouldn't keep it locked up in a case, would you? You would use it, because it's most helpful for fighting the enemy."

A silence stretched between them for several minutes, before Yao finally spoke.

"…You have a lesson with Ali." He murmured. "You know that he doesn't appreciate tardiness."

Without another word on the matter, Yao turned and marched from the tent. Lukas stared after him, stunned. After all that, and he wasn't even going to speak to him? He forced down his anger and bitterness. Yao was stubborn, but he wasn't invincible. Lukas was determined to convince him. He let out a groan of frustration, running his hands back and forth through his hair as he walked in the direction of the dirt practice grounds.

Lukas would never use his powers on the General, no, he wouldn't ever stoop _that_ low. But Yao couldn't deny him forever; it was only a matter of time.

* * *

 _Elsewhere_

The stranger tilted her head up, up, up, gazing at the endless array of stars which blinkered across her vision. The sky still held some evidence of daylight – pale streaks on the horizon, not quite dismissed by time. But for the most part, darkness reigned. The stranger smiled, expression light and lyrical as she watched a ship land in the distance.

She swung her legs back and forth. She sat on a ledge, high above the ground. This part of town was normally quite empty, but even if the streets had been full, and everyone below would have mistaken her reason for being so high for jumping, the stranger knew that no-one would have tried to stop her. This city was uncaring, as were her people.

She turned her head, letting the cool wind caress her finely carved cheekbones as she pushed herself gently off the railing, and let herself fall soundlessly to the street. She landed on her feet, the wind softening her fall. The stranger crouched for a moment, observing the uneven, dirty cobblestone beneath her boot-clad feet. This city was old, but only here in the _Altstadt_ did any sign of the place's vast heritage remain.

She sighed. It was a pity, really. Anlohn had once been one of Incanda's finest cities; a cobbled array of brightly painted buildings cast in stone and brick, and adorned with iron trestles. She had heard stories of what it had been like to walk down a street vibrant with colour and life, to smell the tang of salt on the air, and pluck herbs from the planting boxes which had once hung from every windowsill. The city had been rich and lively. Of course, economic hardship had brought reality to the once-happy civilians here. Practicality and necessity in an equal measure had transformed most of the city into an industrial hub. Only here, in the few, gate-bracketed suburbs which were known to the locals as the _Altstadt_ had survived. The rest of the city was now a thriving centre of trade and commerce and resembled the sort of blocky metropolises seen on Reycass.

The stranger smiled, a little sadly. She had come here seeking something, but she knew now that it lingered in no corner of this planet. The _Aldstadt_ had been her last stop – mostly for its beauty. She twisted her hand; and to an untrained eye, she appeared to pull a piece of paper from the air itself. Turning it over, the stranger sighed at the writing – small and bunched and messy to the point of ridicule. She ignored it, eyeing the small set of notes in one corner of the page. Nodding with satisfaction, she tossed the paper in the air, trusting the wind to send it away from prying eyes.

The stranger straightened up, cracking her fingers as she moved towards the bright blur she saw in the distance. This planet had let her reap no rewards, but perhaps another would. She turned her head upwards again, stars again dancing across her gaze. She closed her eyes, starting to slowly turn in a circle. When she opened them again, mind more restful than before, one star was caught firmly in the centre of her gaze. It burned a low amber colour and made her think of home. She sighed. Her own heart sung its choice, and her own desire to again walk the dirty but familiar streets cried out with a vicious cacophony.

She moved down the street, hoping that there was a berth available on a ship headed that way.

To her home and her sisters, then.

To Rela.


	2. A Life Outside of Fear

**Back once more! Thank you all so much for the feedback on Chapter 1. I was, admittedly, a little worried about how you guys would respond to the time-skip, and it's good to see that it hasn't been too confusing. I have tried my best to include as many different characters in little updates on what they've been up to, but it will take the first few chapters until you guys are all caught up on everyone. There has been a lot of confusion both about the lil flashback at the start as well as the girl at the end of the chapter, and what can I say other than you'll see eventually? ;)**

 **Last time:**  
 **\- The bounty hunters + pirates are still prisoners of the resistance. In ~7 weeks, Arthur, Mei, Leon, Alfred, Tori and Gilbert have all chosen to work for the rebels, for varied reasons. Matthias resents being held prisoner.**  
 **\- Lovino and Feliciano have managed to get jobs and stay under the radar. Feliciano is having some trouble in learning how to master his pyrokinesis.**  
 **\- Lukas is desperate to fight and be more useful to the resistance's efforts. Yao is reluctant to let him fight, out of fear that he would get injured or killed.**  
 **\- A mysterious woman is departing for Rela. She is looking for someone/something.**

 **Kabeeta Tripathi: Nepal**

 **Please continue to tell me what you guys think! I'm working through some intense writer's block right now, admittedly, and nothing helps more than your kind words and advice!**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma  
27th Maii_

The bullet clipped the edge of the target, a loud metallic clang sounding out as it veered away to lie, forgotten, in the cracked red earth. Cursing, Alfred lowered his rifle and squinted at the range.

"You were off a little." Matthew said, reaching over and adjusting his brother's hold a little. "Try again." Sighing a little at the relentlessness of the training but acknowledging the necessity, Alfred shifted into the firing position again, adjusted his angle for windage, and fired again. The bullet punched a clear hole through the lower edge of the target. Matthew grinned, and Alfred let out a shout of victory, pumping his fist energetically.

"Yes! I finally got one!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. Matthew raised an eyebrow at him.

"You did, well done. Now try hitting it again." Alfred was almost immediately sobered by this, but obediently realigned his sights and pulled the trigger twice more. One of the bullets collided with the metal stand and sent sparks flying, but the other hit the target again. Matthew noted the trajectory of both, and nodded at him. "Okay, now you can really celebrate." He said. "You might actually make a decent shot."

Alfred grinned at the compliment, gratefully sliding out of the firing position and lying down next to his brother. While he had been squinting and sweating under the relentless Nymian sun, Matthew had been reclining against the two-foot cement wall designed to act as a prop for the heavy guns, holding a book above his head to ward off sunburn and casually muttering criticism. He groaned, trying and failing to reach for the book which Matthew was now fanning himself with. His brother wrinkled his nose, shoving him away.

"You're covered with machine oil." He said, holding the book even further out of his reach.

Alfred groaned again. "Because I had mechanics earlier this morning." Matthew laughed at the agonised look on his face.

"You complain about mechanics now, but trust me, when you're able to fix up ships and weapons, you'll thank Dalisay and Gavrilo from the bottom of your heart." Alfred huffed, disbelieving, but grinned and gave up trying to steal his brother's book, flopping back in exhaustion as Matthew sat up a little. "I know that it's a bit full on, but it's just to teach you a bit of endurance and organisation. You won't get far here at all if you can't operate well on a tight schedule or under pressure." Alfred nodded.

"Yeah, I get that, really, but that doesn't mean I can't still complain about it."

"Fair enough; I complain about my jobs every day. I'd be a bit of a hypocrite if I lectured you for doing the same."

"So, complaining is still very much so on the table?"

"I've heard _Yao_ bitch and moan from time to time." Matthew laughed. "No one would bat an eye."

"Yao? Seriously?"

"Oh yeah. He once threw a cup of hot coffee at someone because they were being so pretentious and self-absorbed." Alfred laughed.

"Awesome." Matthew nodded in agreement as Alfred continued. "Not that I don't love sweating out in the sun, but is there any chance I could hit a shower soon?"

Matthew blinked, then a slow smile spread across his face. "Actually, I might have something even better."

* * *

"You asshole! I'll get you for that!" Alfred yelled, pelting after Kristian as the teenager recovered from his laughing fit and began to run, slipping and sliding over the red mud which coated the ground. Alfred staggered a little, sliding in the water, but continued his pursuit of the Iramese sniper.

He and Matthew had headed in the direction of the wooden practice arena. It was one of the few places where combat training could be private, and as such, it had become the place where Lukas Bondevik trained his abilities. Despite the rumours flying around the resistance, Lukas had still remained relatively on the down-low. He had abstained from getting involved in anything major in the weeks since whatever drama had gone down (Alfred knew only that there'd been a dispute between two major figures, one of which was Yao). Though of course, their crew had found out his identity due to Vash's ingenuity, Alfred, and all of the others who had become part of the resistance, had been sworn to secrecy, under threat of death.

Alfred was happy enough with that deal. All he had to do was remember to use the surname 'Christensen' when referring to Lukas, and in return, he got to spend time with his brother and his other friends who had changed allegiances. He got to learn all sorts of things and make new friends from all around the Galaxy. Though he would filter his words if he was to visit his friends, he loved the resistance.

As a part of him being kept in line, Alfred had been one of the more unwilling volunteers on whom Lukas practiced his abilities. He and Matthew had arrived at the walled arena, expecting to help out with his training, only to come across Lukas and Kristian having an intense water-balloon fight. The pair, by their own admission, _had_ been training, but had succumbed to the immense temptation to cool down. The day had been uncommonly hot, even for Nyma, it was true, and Alfred and Matthew had jumped right in as well.

And Kristian had just nailed him in the eye with a balloon. The arena's red dirt ground had been well and truly drenched, with skids of mud now lining the space. Alfred cursed as he slipped again. Kristian seemed to be managing quite well in the mud and grime – perhaps due to the fact that the Iramese settlements were always inexplicably located near mudflats – and darted out of reach, laughing. Alfred slipped up again, cursing as his fingers dug into the thick mud on the ground.

Matthew had his hands full trying to deal with Lukas. The Fynknian was darting out of reach easily, using his powers to send massive walls of water flying. Alfred laughed out loud as his brother emerged from one such wave, hair soaked and plastered all over his face, spitting indignantly. Alfred finally managed to stagger off a patch of mud, and hurled a water balloon at Kristian. To his satisfaction and delight, it smacked the sniper directly between the eyes and made him slide backwards. Alfred let out a yelp as Kristian ran at him, obviously keen to even the score.

* * *

Yao watched them absently as they slipped and skidded around the muddy arena. He had been intending to meet Aelia by the communications tent to discuss a field agent who had reported some trouble, but found himself frozen as he silently watched the group of four. He felt like something was lodged in his throat as he watched them continue to run and yell joyfully.

Kristian was still a child…he had always thought that. He was only 17, of course he was still young. Lukas, also, he considered too young to fight. Nineteen was young, very young, though the rebellious Fynknian might not have seen it that way. But…

Alfred and Matthew, both of whom were over 20…they were children too. How many times had he trusted Matthew to go on dangerous missions and win the day for the resistance? How many times had he watched the blond pick off their enemies with a high-grade rifle? He felt oddly sick. Too young…they were all too young to have been dragged into this mess of a war. Yao leant against the wooden slats which bordered the arena, breathing deeply.

 _I'm a weapon which could wreak havoc on the Union_. And Lukas was right about that, wasn't he? But, he was too young to be involved in all of this.

 _And yet, how many times throughout history have the greatest and strongest fighters and rulers been young adults? Even teenagers?_ A lot. Lukas' own father had ascended to the throne aged only 18, just a week after his mother, the Queen at the time, had died of a long-fought illness. Lukas was older now than his father had been then.

 _I know that I'm hardly going to win this war by myself, but if can't fight at all, what's the purpose of having me here?_

He made a good point. Why did he have to make a good point?

Yao's own war with the Union had started when he was only about 26 years old. He had thought of himself as young and naïve then. If he had been young at 26…Lukas couldn't go to war. He simply couldn't.

He was only 19. _Yet he saw the desecrated bodies of his parents when he was only 8. Is he not desensitised?_

It would be so unsafe for him to go alone. To let him go into combat as a Fynknian person…he would stick out, without any doubt. Drawing attention to himself would result in death, and even Yao's influence didn't extend so far as to bring back the dead.

 _If I don't let him fight, he'll just run out when I'm not looking…_

But there was hardly a way to fight a safe war. What Lukas needed was somewhere that he would be safe, where people would look out for him without his identity necessarily being known to them. There wasn't really any place like that, though.

 _He wants to fight_. Sending him into war was too dangerous, surely, especially given that Yao didn't even know for sure how capable Lukas was in battle and other stressful situations.

 _What if that's it? There is only one place where he can fight and make a difference, and not be unduly noticed. But I can't send him there, not unless I know he'd be well prepared for it…_

Yao sighed, burying his head in his hands briefly before raising his head again. He cast a single glance back at the mud-slick arena, where the quartet were still laughing with merriment. Straightening up, he marched toward the communications tent. He was surely late for his meeting with Aelia now, but he hoped that she wouldn't mind terribly. An idea was forming in his head, and he let it stew. He needed a solution to this problem, and if his tired, beleaguered mind could create one, he would welcome it.

* * *

Arthur sighed as his boots met the hard-packed red dirt of Nyma's Dragon-Tree forest again. The day was as hot as the weather meter on his borrowed ship had indicated, and though he had dressed lightly, he had already begun to sweat by the time Mei and Leon had followed him down. Leon's tell-tale groan to his right told him that the Yanish teen was also disgruntled by the temperature. Shrugging off the heat, he nodded to Colonel Jakolin as she disembarked behind him.

They hadn't meshed very well in the four days that they'd conducted the mission over, but he still felt a sense of respect for her. She was capable, strong-willed and very practical, and had been of great use while they'd been away. She nodded in return, marching off immediately to debrief with her superiors. Arthur's lip curled at the thought.

Mei and Leon looked in her direction, expressions hesitant. A sense of obedience had been instilled in them from their earliest days, and he knew that they were both trying to combat the urge to follow Ines and conform to the resistance's wants and expectations. He sighed quietly, then jerked his head in her direction, indicating that they should follow her. Leon turned and moved in that direction, though Mei hesitated a little. Arthur raised an eyebrow at her, maintaining the silence he had adopted since their re-entry into the planet's atmosphere, and she verifiably scurried after Ines.

Though Arthur was perfectly content to flaunt the careful rules which his agreement with the resistance had been made under, he didn't wish to get his young subordinates in trouble. He had been touched, beyond belief, when they had chosen to join the rebels alongside him. In his mind, at least, he was owed no loyalty by them, and yet they chose to display it at almost every opportunity. Though Mei was eager, and Leon clearly attempted to present a disinterested front, they were both equally devoted to remaining in his service. He didn't understand their reasoning, but he appreciated the company.

One thing which he would never admit, even on threat of death, was that, even surrounded by wealth and resplendence, Arthur often got lonely. Mei and Leon were among the very few who could alleviate the heavy feeling that sometimes settled in his chest. Once upon a time, Francis had been one of those people, too. No longer, of course. Nowadays, all that Francis' presence brought to Arthur was confusion and sorrow over a friendship that had been shattered due to things he didn't understand even now.

Arthur did not turn in the same direction as his crew-mates; instead he crossed the large dirt plain which had slowly developed into a common area for rebels to spend time, making his way towards the area in the distance, where he could see the lines of residential containers and tents which housed the vast population of the resistance. He hunched his shoulders a little, bowing his head in an attempt to dispel any attention.

It didn't work. He could feel the curious, roving stares of the rebels who caught sight of his hair, or his face, or even his clothing. Arthur was, to the majority of the people here, something of a curiosity. He was not a rebel, but he could no longer justifiably call himself a pirate anymore, as he now served a master other than his own greed and desires. He was alive enough to complete dangerous heists and dart around the system to perform complex tasks for the resistance, but dead enough that he required frequent check-ups by their head medic, Kabeeta, and that his eyes were carved hollows in his face.

He located the sources of a few of the stares, and met them, staring back with a challenging and unflinching vigour. Most people were surprised to see how much life still lingered in those eyes. _Bright spheres of emerald_ , he had heard people say. _Like a wildfire has been lit just behind the surface._

Most people looked away; others held it. He managed to muster up a bare sliver of respect for the latter group. It was hard to meet the gaze of a dying man and hold it. He admired their gall.

He was grateful when the heat on the back of his neck lessened, and he found himself inside the small, cramped tent which the rebels had managed to procure for him. They had decided from the start that having him share with someone else was not an option, and so he had been given his own tent, something which, as Arthur understood it, had annoyed younger recruits. He held no official position – he couldn't even be considered a true member of the rebellion. Yet here he was, enjoying a privilege which most rebels didn't even receive unless they had a significant rank. It made him smile a little.

He shrugged off the loose outer shirt which he had been wearing, running his hands up his forearms. The needle marks at the insides of his elbows had become more prominent in the last few weeks, mostly due to his change of medication to Kabeeta's formula. Though it was clear in colour, it irritated his skin, and left signs of burst blood vessels and bleeding under the skin on his arms. As if he needed another physical sign that his body was on a time limit.

Wincing a little at the sight that he could expect, he turned and faced a floor-length mirror in the corner of his tent. He recoiled a little.

For Arthur, showing any weakness was as good as succumbing to it completely. It was why he hadn't told any of his crew-mates that he was terminally ill. The pirate industry was constructed on skill; the more apt and capable you were, the more heists and missions you pulled off successfully, the more respect you gained from others. Arthur, as someone who had done things which most considered impossible – or, at the very least, extremely difficult – had gained a lot of respect from other pirates. It had been their guidance which had allowed him to them gather members for his crew. But, they had been his friends at times as well. He missed the odd companionship which came from being collectively hunted down by righteous governments and seen by the general public as wholly despicable. If they were to see him now, they would either admire him more for his lingering voracity, or immediately take advantage of him.

Malthecs, when taken regularly enough, had stayed the physical effects of Chalydrantis. He hadn't looked, externally, like he was even sick. Kabeeta's formula did no such thing. His veins were visible through his skin, and though she always overfed him, he had lost weight in the past six weeks. His cheekbones had been drawn into sharp relief. His eyes were dark and sunken, and his lips were cracked and bloody. However, the most obvious signs were his nails and hair. His hair, previously a mess of blond streaked with the tell-tale grey, was now completely changed. It was a fairly light grey in colour, though the colour wasn't quite consistent throughout his head – a sign that it wasn't natural greying. His finger and toenails now bore massive dark blotches on them – another unmistakeable sign of what he was suffering from. Even at his worst, in the past, he had never exceeded a few grey strands of hair and a pinhead-sized spot on his nails before. His appearance finally matched the disease which ravaged him internally.

But even with the grey hair, and the dark nails, and his thinning frame…there was a burning fire in his eyes. Though his skin was drawn tight over his muscle and bone, it was flushed with colour. Though his eyes were sunken, his near-constant headaches had disappeared, and only reappeared perhaps once or twice a week. His body looked weak but wasn't. He could haul himself up the sides of buildings and run down long streets with just as much capability as he had during a 'good' period. Whatever Kabeeta's solution was doing to him, it seemed to be working better than what Malthecs had done.

Sighing, Arthur pulled off his boots, wrinkling his nose a little at the dark colour of his toenails. He sat down with relief, and remained still for a moment, just letting his body relax and wind down a little. He considered the distance between his tent and the debriefing rooms, before deciding to simply take whatever punishment came his way for missing it. He knew that Yao – the only one whose opinion really mattered in this agreement of theirs – would care more that the mission had been a success than that Arthur had skipped debriefing. Let the high-ranked generals think whatever they wanted. He was doing exactly what they had agreed on. Arthur completed heists for them, and he got medication in return. He wasn't going to go above and beyond for them.

Shaking his head a little, he pulled on a more comfortable pair of shoes, and set off towards the main medical tent in the base. He was yet to accept his reward for his latest mission.

* * *

Kabeeta Tripathi was a curiosity to Arthur. She was a rebel by definition and even occasionally by nature, and yet she fit none of the many stereotypes nor common imagery which Arthur had previously seen. When one thought of the term 'rebel' – or 'terrorist', which was the preferred name by the Union for those who dared to defy them – one tended to bring to mind the image of some scruffily-dressed person bearing a gun or other weapon. Though there were multitudes of scruffily-dressed people here, as well as those who never went anywhere unarmed, Kabeeta was a pleasant difference.

It was reasonable, Arthur supposed, that not every person who had joined the resistance was cut out to be a fighter. There were several people who Arthur had met in the time since he had made that deal with Yao who were political rivals, or conscientious objectors. People who opposed the Union's political actions or defied laws designed to limit expression, but had never intended to pick up a gun and display their dissatisfaction with murder. Those people worked in other jobs around the resistance. They worked as analysts or communications officials, drove vehicles or took care of the children of fighters off on missions. Many volunteered to clean or cook food. Many more became medics, and patched people up when the war tore them up a little.

That was Kabeeta's role – she was the head medic, meaning that she had supreme authority over anything related to medicine, surgery or the infirmary. She was the one who had created the advanced formula which he was trading his time and skills away for. And though he might resent that he had been roped into an agreement which the rebels knew he couldn't well refuse, he couldn't dislike Kabeeta.

Despite the glares which he sent in every direction (including hers) she was always warm and kind in her greetings and demeanour. She could be authoritative when she wanted to be, especially when someone's life was on the line, but was for the most part a generally lovely person. She was efficient, and never took up more of his time than she needed, but was happy to talk to him. She had, in the past seven weeks, become one of the friendliest faces around here.

He didn't know exactly where she was from. Normally, a person's ethnicity could act at least partially as an indicator, but even on that front he was unsure. She had narrow eyes which were dark in colour like those of Yanish people, and hair which was either black or a very dark brown. She looked like she might have been from the Kyrs system, but her skin was a rich caramel colour. Her clothing didn't help – her long hair was always tied back in a practical fashion, and she wore dark pants and shirts which were almost always hidden beneath medical scrubs. Like essentially everyone else at the resistance, she wore zip-up boots. She had the fairly strong remains of a curious accent, but Arthur was hesitant to ask her about her past. He guessed that he himself was an anomaly – most of his name was falsified, and his time living on Reycass had given him a Northern Reycausian accent which had replaced his existing Pyndaphian one. She had the right to secrecy, though he was still curious.

"I keep telling you, little _musībata nirmātā_ , it's not good to skip debriefings." She scolded him as she rolled his sleeve up, eyes roving over the inside of his elbow. "I know that they must be boring – you are not the first to complain about them – but they are still important."

"How are they important?" Arthur asked dryly as he watched her pick up a sanitised cloth and wipe his arm with it. "All we do is repeat details that they already know. In any case, Mei and Leon went to it – why would it be necessary to have me there as well?"

"Well, it isn't the facts which count so much as it is your perspective on the events and your role in them." Kabeeta said as she picked up a hypodermic syringe filled with the clear liquid keeping him alive. "You can't expect poor Mei and Leon to remember everything they did _as well_ as _your_ role in the proceedings." He winced a little. She made a fair point. "Besides," she continued, examining the chamber to ensure that there were no oxygen bubbles inside, "the benefit of going would be more than that." Kabeeta grasped his arm, locating a vein with ease due to how prominent they were on his arms. "Going to debriefing shows that you're committed to this deal. It would soften Yao's opinion of you, which might make him be a bit more forgiving about how often he sends you out on missions."

As he was considering her statement, she plunged the needle directly into his arm. He just barely twitched at the sensation. It was a familiar pain, but pain nonetheless. She slowly pushed down the plunger, forcing the liquid into his body. She extracted it slowly, pressing a small pad of cotton to it.

"You really think that his opinion of me is going to change? He despises me." Arthur said sharply. Kabeeta simply laughed.

"Oh, my child, you are wise for your age, that I will never deny, but you have no intelligence regarding Yao. You have not known him nearly long enough to read him. There are people here who have known him years and would never be able to guess what he was thinking."

"Can you? Read him, I mean." Arthur inquired. Kabeeta looked up at him as she wiped a small dot of blood from his arm.

"I have known him a long time. We met so long ago, that many forget he was even part of the resistance at the time. I would not claim to know him perfectly – better than others, certainly, but not perfectly – but I would hazard to say that I can tell what he thinks of certain people."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Really? Give me an example."

Kabeeta leant back a little, meeting his challenging gaze. "If you so wish." She cast her gaze around, before it settled on a young man covered in mud, who was nursing his temple and grinning sheepishly. "Kristian Alekseev. He's a young member of our sniper division. Yao is very grateful for his skill and drive, and Kristian has always been a loyal fighter. However," she paused, surveying him for a minute, "he's very young, only 17 years old. Yao fears what would happen if he sent him into the same sort of high-risk situations which he throws snipers like Tino into. He sees Kristian's youth and recognises his eagerness to fight and do the right thing, but also recognises that, untempered, that enthusiasm could result in disaster. He normally has Matthew babysitting him. That's why he's kept him around here for the last few weeks. While Matthew is suspended, he has no-one to watch over him, so Yao's kept him where he knows that he's relatively safe." She turned back to Arthur, laughing when she saw the stunned look on his face. She patted his shoulder gently.

"Yao doesn't despise you. He respects your skill and capability in the field, and is probably grateful to have been able to strike such a deal with you. Though you're a little stubborn and headstrong, yes, it's nothing he hasn't dealt with before. I think that he would really like it if you were a proper member of the rebellion, but would never stake his hopes in something like that. You two would get along well, I can tell."

Arthur was silent, before he sighed. "Sure, whatever you say." Kabeeta smiled, ruffling his hair a little.

"You're all done. Come in again if your general condition changes, okay? Don't leave it to Mei to rat you out because she's concerned. Have a bit more responsibility for your own health." She chided him. He sighed. She said something similar every time he was in here. He nodded reluctantly, and Kabeeta gave him a warm, motherly smile. "Alright get out of here." he smiled wanly and hopped down from the bench he had been perched on, and made to leave the infirmary when he heard someone calling his name.

Turning, he blinked in surprise when he saw who was trying to catch his attention. It was Alfred, and Arthur had to press a hand to his mouth to hide his smile when he saw that, like Kristian, the blond was covered in mud. The energetic man ran up to him, beaming. Arthur raised an eyebrow, sweeping his gaze up and down indicatively. Alfred blushed.

"Yeah, I can explain that." He said sheepishly. "We were having a water fight and all the dirt just turned into mud."

"That is what tends to happen when dirt gets wet." Arthur said shrewdly, still trying valiantly to suppress a smile. Alfred blushed further.

"Uh…yeah. Anyway, Kristian slipped over and banged his head pretty badly, so we brought him here. It's only a minor concussion, luckily." Arthur nodded.

"I see." He said simply. "Sounds like your afternoon was very adventurous."

"Hehe, yeah, it was pretty fun. Other than Kristian getting hurt, that is." he amended. "How did your mission go?"

"Good, obviously. If it went badly I likely wouldn't be standing here." Alfred blinked, nodding as his mood seemed to deflate a little.

"Oh, yeah, right, heh, stupid of me to ask." Arthur cursed himself. Why was he being so cold to Alfred? If anything, the former bounty hunter had been one of the few people who seemed to actually enjoy spending time with him. He could be a little too loud sometimes, but he was sweet, and had never done anything deliberately to irritate Arthur. He forced some of his usual clinical mask to disperse, and made his voice a little gentler.

"How's your preliminary training coming along?" he asked, tone far softer than it had been previously. Alfred seemed to notice the change, and perked up a bit, happily explaining how he had been getting along in lessons on ship anatomy, shooting and basic first-aid as the pair walked out of the infirmary and into the falling night. Arthur couldn't fight his smile when Alfred started to detail the water-turned-mud fight to him. Judging from his recollection, it had been quite wild. Arthur pulled the man back when he went to walk inside the dining hall, instead shoving him in the direction of the showers, declaring that he 'wasn't going to eat with someone who was so filthy'.

When Alfred returned (finally clean again), he seemed surprised to see Arthur still standing where he had been. Likely, he had probably expected the pirate to have gone inside already. Admittedly, Arthur had been tempted, but had recalled the slightly hurt look on Alfred's face from earlier, and stayed in place for once. They walked in alongside each other, as Alfred continued to explain that Matthew was, technically, only a year and three days older than him, and that, come Juillat, Matthew would only be 'two years older' for three days. Arthur only half-followed whatever argument Alfred seemed to be trying to prove, but he found that nodding absently and humming occasionally sated the blond.

"Speaking of birthdays," Alfred said as Arthur shook himself out of his stupor, "when's yours? I can get you something if you want." Arthur cringed guiltily. He had been very busy the past few weeks, and as such hadn't spoken to the cheerful new rebel as much as the other would have liked. He had been so preoccupied with the numerous missions which Yao had been sending him out on that he hadn't even realised that the date had passed until about three days after.

"Uh..." he scratched at the back of his neck, "A month ago?" Alfred's jaw dropped open, and Arthur could see that he looked quite affronted.

"A _month_ ago?" he said, voice pitched a little higher than normal. "You've been 24 for a month and you didn't tell me?" Arthur was tempted to point out that he and Alfred had technically not even known each other for four months, and the only people that really knew his birthday were his family members, but kept quiet.

"I've been busy, you know. Besides, I didn't think that anyone would particularly care. I don't."

Alfred looked floored by that information. "Why would I not care? We're friends, aren't we?"

Arthur blinked, and, looking into the baby blue eyes staring at him, he could do nothing other than nod. Alfred brightened at that.

"Well then, that means that I have to get you something!" he said brightly. "Like a book or a knife or something." At this he trailed off, obviously thinking. "Nah, I'd have to get you something more awesome than that, especially since it's for you." Alfred had turned a vibrant shade of crimson by the time he had finished saying that sentence, and Arthur was trying to ignore the light fluttering in his stomach.

"You really don't have to get me anything." He murmured. Alfred shook his head, grin wide.

"Nope! You're getting a present whether you like it or not!" he said cheerfully. Arthur rolled his eyes, but grinned again, and turned back to his meal, missing the dazed look which had appeared on Alfred's face when he saw that he had managed to make the bitter pirate smile.


	3. Predicting the Unpredictable

**Yasss! It's update time!**

 **As you guys may have noticed, I've changed the update day from Friday to Wednesday, purely because I'm so busy relaxing on Fridays that I used to sometimes forget to update this. I know what y'all are thinking; "Uhh, Anubis, you just said that the new update day is Wednesday. Why are you posting a chapter on Monday?" (or at least it's Monday for me, lol)**

 **The answer is simple; my upcoming week has been brought from hell. I'm not sure how much you guys know about Australian schools, but basically, I'm in Year 12 (equivalent to being a Senior in the USA) and this week I have to take a test which basically helps create a score which can determine what university I get into. I also have three assignments due this week as well, in addition to my exams starting next week. As you might imagine, this is stressing me out. I might not get the time to update next week, and I didn't want to risk leaving you guys update-less for a whole fortnight, so you get an early chapter instead.**

 **Sorry for the shortness of this chapter - it's the shortest so far, and I can promise that Chapter 4 is longer.**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Alfred is settling into resistance life well, and is getting to spend time with Matthew, who is still suspended.**  
 **\- Yao is seriously debating whether or not he should let Lukas get more involved. He is starting to form a plan.**  
 **\- Arthur is cooperating with the rebels in order to get treatment but isn't going out of his way to demonstrate loyalty. The medication appears to be working, and his relationship with Alfred also seems to be improving. Alfred has vowed to buy Arthur an overdue birthday present.**

 **WARNINGS: Language, crime, attempted rape (I haven't got any warnings for it, sorry, so if you don't want to read it, just scroll down past the line break when you read the line, "The second man sneered and lashed out at him in return.")**

 **Please REVIEW! I love hearing from you guys more than anything else! Also please be patient with updates in the next few weeks! Wish me luck for all my stressful shit!**

* * *

 _'Grounded' Café, Veroda District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
29th Maii_

Feliciano looked up only momentarily as the door swung open again, bells jingling cheerfully. He turned his attention elsewhere again when he saw Arman, a friendly older worker who had been showing him how to work the coffee machines, move away to greet the customer. Sighing, he plucked several dirty cups from one of the tables, giving it a quick wipe-down as he walked to the kitchen to dump them in the sink.

The crew at 'Grounded' – the niche café at which Feliciano had acquired a job – was small and, until he had been hired, exclusively Relusian. He stuck out a fair bit as a result, and regulars and newcomers to the café alike gave him odd looks. To all outward appearances, he looked like a Jhobrasian teenager, mostly due to the fact that the true Syhvvanian red of his hair was obscured by dye. The others were all Relusian through and through, and though he was yet to get targeted in any racially-related way, the stares still made him uncomfortable.

The manager of the café was a lovely man named Nazer, who had been delighted to have someone so young invested in working in hospitality. Arman was one of Nazer's close friends, and his long-time barista. Gossip among employees was also that Nazer was in love with him, and though Feliciano normally didn't engage in rumours, he couldn't deny how much traction that particular theory had. The café had two chefs; Enlik, a woman in her mid-forties who made excellent pastries, and Kairat, a 27-year-old who, in Feliciano's opinion, had adopted it at his divine right to mock him at every turn. The only other employee was a girl named Aizhan, who acted as both a dishwasher and waitress. Now that Feliciano had joined the crew, he shared her duties, but most often than not found himself cleaning and stacking things.

Glancing at the clock, he sighed in relief. He only had another hour left until the café closed up for the night and he could go home and sleep. He was determined to not bother Lovino again – his older brother had started to get dark circles under his eyes from all of the sleep he lost by helping Feliciano try to use his pyrokinetic abilities. He was set in his decision to not bother his brother any more than necessary. It wasn't Lovino's fault that he was so useless, and couldn't even manage to set a cotton thread on fire. He just didn't understand what he was doing wrong. What did Lovino have, in fact, what had all of their ancestors had that he didn't?

He sighed, plunging his hands into the large bucket of soapy water which had been set up in one sink, and started to scrub at dirty plates. It was no use to sit and ponder over it. If the solution was that simple, he would have figured it out already. At the very least, he thought, perking up a little, he had stashed enough pennies in his bag that he could buy something for his brother before he left work that day.

His brief good mood was crushed, however, when a familiar, deriding voice met his ears.

"Clean faster, won't you? We only have an hour to close." He didn't even bother looking up. Kairat shifted closer to him, using his superior height to, quite literally, look down on him. "Come on, we really don't have all day." Feliciano sighed, not willing to deal with the older man's complaints today. He obediently sped up, handing the plates to Kairat to be dried. The man seemed perturbed by his lack of reaction, and scowled, pointing out a small spot which he had missed. "You call this clean? Didn't your parents ever teach you how to perform basic chores?"

Feliciano silently took the plate back and scrubbed the spot off. He had kept most details about himself secret, mostly because Kairat was nosy and Aizhan, though very friendly and much more welcoming, was also a very curious person by nature. As such, none of them were aware of several important things about him. His true identity went unsaid, as it would in any other situation, but they also had no clue that Lovino existed, that Feliciano was an orphan, or that he had technically never received a formal education.

By far the biggest secret he kept from them, though, was that he lived in the Szwicza District. Most inhabitants of the southern district didn't care what people thought of their residence, but once you got far away enough from the area, opinions about it became unavoidable. It was the poorest district in all of Bibesti, being a fringe district. It also had the highest crime rate by far, and was considered extraordinarily dangerous by residents of the Veroda District. Most of them wouldn't walk through there during the day, much less at night like Feliciano did every time he had work. The Veroda District had been a slap in the face for him. It was clean, orderly, beautiful and, above all, safe. Anyone could walk down the street at any hour and not fear robbery or rape or murder.

Residents of Veroda, which was what Nazer, Arman, Kairat, Elnik and Aizhan all were, could never imagine the danger in the Szwicza District. He had heard them all talking more than once about the horrible living conditions there. He agreed, but had felt oddly insulted by their words. It was clear that, at least to them, a resident of the Szwicza district was to be pitied as someone who was poor, lived a degenerate lifestyle, and would likely never leave the filthy area.

He didn't deign to answer Kairat's attempted slight, and continued to wash silently. Aizhan joined him after a while and started up a cheerful conversation with him about the dance classes which she had been taking. He floundered for a moment when she asked about his non-existent schooling.

"What's your favourite class?" she had asked, curious and happy as always.

"Oh…uh, probably history." He said, coming up with it on the spot. "I like learning about all of the old political leaders and such." Aizhan had nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! I agree. It's kind of a shame that the curriculum doesn't let us learn about the Free Courts, though, especially since they're right here in our system." Feliciano had frozen up a little at that, but nodded and murmured in agreement before adopting silence for the rest of the night.

It was a relief when Nazer congratulated them on a day of work well done, and told them to go home for the night. Feliciano was glad to dart out the door, ensuring that he had grabbed his small coin purse, and checking that the knife Lovino had given him was again tucked into his belt. He raised a hand in farewell to Aizhan and Arman when he saw them walking off in the opposite direction.

He circled around a block, admiring the sheer cleanliness of this part of Bibesti, before reluctantly trudging back towards the Szwicza District. He had to work hard to clean himself up before going to work every day. If he had gone dressed as he always was, it would have been almost painfully obvious that he was from a poorer district. Kairat could mock him all he wanted, but even the snarky chef looked vaguely frightened at the mention of the place. It was where Feliciano lived and spent most of his time, and yet it terrified the chef. He often kept that thought close whenever the Relusian man was being especially unbearable.

The sun had set much more quickly than he had wanted it to. Winter began in a few days for Bibesti, and the days had been shrinking accordingly. Soon enough, it would be completely dark while he walked home. Already the streets were mostly shrouded in shadows. Shivering a little, he quickened his pace.

Crossing the boundary into Szwicza from the adjoined Calmas District rendered a physical change in Feliciano. His shoulders locked up, and his gaze immediately became active, roving across the street and connected alleyways, trying to determine if anyone lay in the shadows, waiting to strike. His hand drifted towards the knife at his belt, and his already swift pace sped up even more. Lovino normally had no trouble walking these streets, but Lovino looked more like a predator than a victim, and Feliciano knew that he was significantly less intimidating than his older brother.

He kept his senses tuned, listening out for any sign of a person as he sped down the streets. He inwardly cursed how far into the district their apartment was.

A loud noise to his right made him turn his entire body that way, looking out for any sign. He only realised his mistake when he felt hands seize him from behind. Lovino had told him about that old ruse – in which one member of a pair caused a distraction to draw their victim's attention, while the other snuck up behind them and grabbed them. He struggled fiercely, throwing his weight in the other direction in an attempt to make them loosen or lose their grip on him. It didn't work, though, and he felt a hand press itself over his mouth as he was dragged backwards into an alley.

He swung his legs wildly as his captor picked him up off the ground, feeling a sliver of satisfaction when his heel connected with something and the man let out a grunt of pain. He continued to writhe around wildly, trying to get his hand to the knife at his belt. The man's accomplice hurried down, and Feliciano struck out at him with his feet as well. The man cursed, jumping away and sending him a vicious glare. Running out of options, he sunk his teeth into the hand clasped over his mouth. He heard a curse, and the hand vanished. A flash of pain across his temple just a moment later told him that the man had just hit him. The man wrapped his arms around him, clasping him in a backwards bear-hug, as the second of the two approached them.

Feliciano continued to wriggle around wildly, lashing out mostly with his feet, as his arms were now pinned to his sides. The second man sneered and lashed out at him in return. His right eye and lower lip were stinging and aching, though he continued to struggle. The man holding him shook him violently for a moment, before pulling his body even closer, pressing up against him.

"Listen here. You can give us your money right now, and we'll be on our merry way, or you can continue to fight us. I promise, kiddo, if you do the latter, you'll regret it." Feliciano felt his attacker press his body even more against his. This time, though, he understood what the man was saying. He went completely still when he felt the robber's erection pressed against the inside of his left thigh. The man let out a short laugh. "Oh yeah. Keep quiet, kiddo, and stop hitting me and my friend here, or I'll fuck you raw and leave you for the vultures to pick up the scraps." Feliciano remained completely still as the second man rifled through his pockets, withdrawing his coin purse and also pulling the knife from his belt.

"Now that I think about it," the first man said as his friend indicated that that was all Feliciano had, "you really are a pretty little thing anyway. Why don't I show you a good time?" Feliciano started to struggle again as the man pressed him up against a wall, breathing down his neck. "Come on now," the man continued, "it'll be fun. I can show you how it's really done." Feliciano thrust his knee upwards, and the man shouted a curse, staggering away a little.

He was unable to take more than a step away, though, before he was slammed back against the wall again. A sharp, intense pain manifested in his side, and he looked down, stunned to see the hilt of his own knife jutting from his torso. He half slid sideways before the man he'd hit grabbed him, forcing him back upright.

"You little shit." He spat as he pinned him against the wall by his throat, pulling at his own trousers. "You won't ever walk again once I'm done with you." The knife was pulled roughly from his side and he nearly blacked out from pain before he was slammed onto the ground, the enraged robber crawling on top of him. He struggled feebly, pushing at the heavier man with his hands, vision spinning as his side burned with pain. He could feel the man's hands roving, pulling at his clothes, and felt bile rise in his throat.

Distantly, he heard shouting from the other man, the accomplice. The man on top of him froze, and, somehow, the pressure on top of him was alleviated. By the time Feliciano's vision had cleared sufficiently, they were both gone. Bewildered, he twisted around to see a trio of patrol officers walking out on the main street. He breathed out slowly. Those two must have been new to the Szwicza District. In any other part of Bibesti, law enforcement would stop an attack, but here in Szwicza, it was a different story. Just a few weeks ago, he'd heard a story of a group of officers who had come across someone who had been mugged. Rather than helping them or taking them to the hospital, they had gang-raped them.

Vision still blurry and breathing erratic, Feliciano flipped himself onto his stomach and forced himself to his feet. His hand drifted to his side, and it came away slick and red. Pressing a hand to the injury and hoping that nothing vital had been hit, he staggered onward in the direction of their apartment building.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
30th Maii_

Ayshe raised an eyebrow at the layout of the building. The floor plans had been retrieved by a nervous, Iramese pilot named Yelisa about an hour ago at her request, and Ayshe had spent nearly all of that time looking from the plans to Yao, and back to the plans again.

"It certainly doesn't look like a highly-guarded communications centre." She said. Yao nodded, frowning at the plans sternly.

"No, that it doesn't. It's good for us, though. Since the layout is fairly simple, it would be easy to navigate the inside. The real challenge comes with getting into the building in the first place. The outsides of the building are very heavily monitored, and they have three layers of guarded checkpoints."

Ayshe whistled "Challenging indeed. What would we get out of infiltrating this place?"

Yao gave her a shrewd smile. "It's a communications centre. If we plant a bug in their system, we'd be able to intercept their transmissions, and it would make undermining the Union all that much easier. We wouldn't be able to act on every piece of information we receive, obviously, as they would cotton on fairly quickly, but it would be very helpful to have that option." Ayshe nodded again, a grin stretching across her features.

"So, we go in, plant a bug, get out and reap the rewards?" Yao nodded. "Okay, well I'm in if you need any volunteers."

"I knew that you would be." Yao said quietly, frowning a little. Ayshe blinked, gazing at him in concern.

"Yao? Are you alright?" she asked, moving towards him.

"It's going to be a dangerous mission, is all," he said. Ayshe's expression softened, and she clasped her hand over his own.

"I've done dangerous things before. I'll pick a capable crew, don't worry." Yao was silent for a moment, and Ayshe saw his eyes fall to where her hand was placed over his. He withdrew his hand from hers, turning away a little. Quickly disguising the hurt on her face, she listened as he spoke.

"I was thinking, actually, that I would appoint a few people to go along myself." He said, tone measured. Ayshe drew back a little, hurt rising up again. She nodded, though, forcing herself to regain her composure.

"Of course," she said, tone losing its usual warmth. "As you see fit." She turned on her heel and marched off, not giving him the chance to explain his sudden change in mood. He had been acting a little oddly lately, but she wasn't brave enough to ask why. It always seemed to be whenever she tried any sort of physical contact or anything more…personal. He had been very withdrawn in the fortnight or so following his trial. She understood that. After what he had detailed on the stand…well, the idea that physical contact made him uncomfortable was completely expected. She had initially assumed that he had to recover from the traumatic experience of spilling the darkest aspects of his past, but it seemed to be a principle which applied only to her.

It hurt, far more than anything else, that she was the one he was choosing to not trust. They had been friends for years, ever since she'd rescued him from the Arbiter. In the early days of his recovery, she had always been by his side, something which even Arshad hadn't been able to do. She wrapped her arms around herself. Perhaps that was it. Yao had loved Arshad, after all. The trial had likely only reminded him of that fact. He had once told her that his heart felt like it had been pushed to capacity. _Clearly_ , she thought. _If he has room for a dead man, and not me._

It was cruel to think that way, though. Yao had had an exceptionally hard life, and it was awful that she thought she had the right to a place in it. Nonetheless, her mood was low, and she walked towards the firing range with a drawn look on her face.

* * *

"…That's an interesting group of people to choose for a mission, Yao." Mohammed said, casting a sideways glance at him. "Are you sure that it'll work? It is a very high-stakes operation."

"I've been trying to reserve my judgement, but," Octavia said, "even I'm not sure about this."

"They'll be fine. That crew or nothing." Yao snapped, mood worn thin by the hurt look on Ayshe's face he'd seen earlier. He had been trying to distance himself in order to preserve her feelings, and yet he had only ended up hurting them more. Octavia and Mohammed exchanged a look, but clearly picked up on Yao's sour mood, and didn't comment again.

Yao turned his gaze away, glaring at the table as Octavia picked up the list he'd compiled.

"So…Kirkland, his two subordinates, Ayshe, Lukas, Tino and the two recruits from the criminal group." She set down the list again. "I'll send out word that they've been drafted for a mission." She hesitated for a moment, as if hoping that Yao would change his mind, but upon receiving silence, she turned and exited the tent. Mohammed looked as if he wanted to speak, but decided against it, bowing his head a little and following Octavia out.

Yao sighed, leaning back in his chair. He had been high-strung ever since the trial, and couldn't seem to relax himself. Trying to deal with the stubbornness of Arthur Kirkland, in addition to Lukas' increased desire to fight and the continuing issue of the criminals they had taken prisoner, had run him down. His troubles had only been further burdened by the uncomfortable realisation which he had come to not long after his trial. It had haunted him relentlessly since, however much he might try to deny its existence.

The group which he had chosen to go on this mission was a reckless choice. A part of him already regretted it, but another, louder part of his brain was satisfied. Try as he might to deny it, he felt as though he was sending away several of his problems at once. With Kirkland, Ayshe, Lukas and two of the criminals who had chosen to join their side out of the way, however briefly, he might actually get the chance to relax a little.

Though his real intentions were less than kind, Yao had actually had good reasons for picking the crew that he had. Kirkland had to prove himself worthy on a constant basis, and had already shown his aptitude in performing heists and break-ins. His input on the mission, in addition to that of his talented subordinates, would be invaluable. Ayshe was an excellent fighter and strategist. She would be able to find ways for all of their talents to be used to their fullest potential. She was going to be the leader of the mission, and Yao doubted that she would have any trouble handling the more reluctant crew-members. Lukas had been clamouring to be allowed to prove himself as a worthy fighter for weeks now. His skills, both natural and supernatural, could have many uses in this mission. If he proved to Yao that he was ready to go to war, Yao would actually consider sending him.

Tino was their best sniper by far, and could also easily keep the ex-pirates and former bounty-hunters in line. He was also friends with Lukas, and Yao knew that the man would look out for the harsh Fynknian and have his back if necessary. As for the two new recruits, well, Alfred was already showing promise. His aim wasn't perfect, but he was a decent fighter. Yao wanted to see if he was made of the same steel as his brother. He already knew that the more bubbly man was fairly committed to their goals, but Yao wanted to ensure that he knew exactly what joining the resistance meant. He couldn't let Matthew protect him forever. The second recruit had barely been a member of their infantry for two weeks, and already he had intrigued Yao. He was clearly a far superior fighter to Alfred, but had remained quiet and reserved. The way he unconsciously stiffened around Garvich told Yao what he needed to know about his parentage, but he wasn't particularly worried. It would do both of the former criminals some good to get to see each other again, and, similar to Alfred, Yao wanted to see how well their newest fighter fared in a proper mission.

He was sorry that Matthew wouldn't be able to join them, but his suspension ended tomorrow, and he knew that the man would quickly re-immerse himself in resistance combat life quickly enough. He leant back in his chair, running a hand back through his hair. Yao sighed. If they all made it back from the mission, he would try and talk to them all, he decided. It wasn't fair of him to try and ignore his problems. That method had never worked before, and there was no reason it would work now.

Standing, he braced himself for the long night of planning to come.


	4. Everything That We're Made Of

**Hey guys, I'm back again!**

 **Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter, they were very much appreciated and helped me get through a tough week or too. As it stands I still have two assignments to finish but as of today I've finished my exams, so yay!**

 **Last time:  
** **\- Feliciano was attacked while walking home from his new job as a waiter. He's been stabbed, and has been convinced by Lovino to stay home for a few days.  
** **\- There has been some ~tension~ between Yao and Ayshe as an important mission is being planned.  
** **\- Yao has chosen to get rid of his problems by sending them on a deadly mission where they could die (relatable) and has chosen Ayshe, Tino, Lukas, Alfred, Arthur, Mei, Leon and Gilbert for the task.**

 **Please review, and I hope you guys enjoy!**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
1st Jaune_

"And in three…two…one…" Matthew let out a yell of joy and punched the air when the clock ticked over to show 11am. "I'm officially unsuspended!" he leapt to his feet, ignoring Abel's amused expression as he grabbed his brown leather jacket from its spot on his bed, threw it on and practically sprinted outside.

"Calm down," the tall man said as he followed Matthew out into the blinding light and heat outside. "I wouldn't put it past the council to re-suspend you just for being too enthusiastic." Matthew rolled his eyes, but slowed his steps enough for his friend to catch up. Matthew knew that he was smiling like an idiot, but he couldn't help it. He knew that his punishment had been fair – extremely lenient, even – but that hadn't detracted from the agony of being delegated to work in the kitchens or clean rooms all day. The few bright points in his suspension had been the few times which he had been allowed to work in the infirmary – that place was interesting and high-energy, at least – but they had been far in between.

Suspension wouldn't have been so bad if it had just meant being restricted to within the rebel base. He had been punished with that before, and it often wasn't even that bad. His suspension, however, had been tailored to fit his particular skills and schedule. Matthew was a combat fighter, so he had been banned from entering any munitions shed, using the firing range, touching or having any sort of weapon on his person, going to his flying lessons (he'd been forced to purely study theory, instead) and do any sort of task or mission assigned by a superior officer. It had limited him to, really, reading, studying and doing basic repairs. He had volunteered to help out in the kitchens and infirmary to keep himself from dying of boredom. He was a prolific reader, it was true, but his thirst for adventure ran deep. Being unable to engage in any missions, while his friends had continued to enjoy them, had almost driven him insane.

And poor Abel, whose own room was very close to his own, had suffered through the most incensed of Matthew's complaints across the two months. Matthew had only found suspension bearable when he'd been told that his brother had chosen to join the resistance, and he was given permission to show him around. It had been frustrating to sit and watch as his brother shot targets while he himself wasn't allowed, but he loved every minute of spending time with and getting to know Alfred better. The years of their separation had seemed to dissolve over the course of a few days. There were still countless things which Matthew didn't know about Alfred, but they were now as tight-knit as they had been back in Beledent.

He sighed. He'd been informed that his brother was to be sent on his first-ever mission, and if Ayshe was to be believed, it was a dangerous one. He wished, more than almost anything else, that he was permitted to go along, but the mission had been proposed last night, and as he had been suspended at the time, he wasn't allowed to take part.

 _If they'd only waited a day to propose the mission_. He thought ruefully. _If I had only managed to find another way to get Nesset out of the way_.

He forced the thoughts away. He'd been plagued with guilt about killing Nesset for the last two months, even though he knew that it had been a necessary evil. Ending one life to save seventeen others – it seemed a more than fair trade-off, but the weight was heavy on Matthew's heart. Dalisay, who had been Nesset's mentor, had been understanding but distant ever since, and he mourned the loss of her warmth and kindness.

He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Abel was frowning at him.

"Hey, you okay? You went really quiet there." Matthew smiled sadly but nodded.

"I'll be alright, thanks Abel." He murmured. "I'm just thinking too much."

"As always." Abel teased.

"Yeah, as always."

* * *

Alfred sighed as Leon raised an eyebrow at him. Mei giggled a little at the agonised expression on his face as pressed his chin to the table, frowning at the wood.

"I'm serious. I need help with this. I want to get him something that he'll actually like."

"He really wouldn't care at all if you didn't get him anything, though." Leon said. "His birthday was a _month_ ago, for saints' sake. He's probably forgotten all about it." Alfred shot him a look.

"Okay, you aren't being helpful, Leon. I _want_ to get Arthur something. Didn't you guys do anything for him?"

Mei smiled a little. "Well…yes, but we did that near his actual birthday. I ducked into the city centre when he and Ali were reviewing some strategy and bought him a cake. He was a bit embarrassed by it, though."

"Because Ali got really into singing 'happy birthday' for him," Leon said. Mei shrugged.

"He _is_ a really good singer, though. I thought it sounded very good." Leon rolled his eyes affectionately, but couldn't quite disguise a small smile. Alfred groaned.

"Well that sounds okay! What am I supposed to do? You guys know him better than anyone else. I want to get him something which he'll really like." Mei was smiling widely.

"You really want him to like this present, don't you?"

"Well…yeah, I thought that was obvious." He muttered, cheeks flushing red. Mei sighed.

"I'll admit, you're fighting an uphill battle in that regard. He usually doesn't like celebrating his birthday, and he _definitely_ doesn't normally like presents. If you want to get him something he'll like or love, you'll have to really knock it out of the park. You need to get him something which demonstrates more than a basic knowledge of his likes and dislikes." She paused. "If you wanted an example, I guess, he wouldn't be impressed if you got him a book because he loves reading, but he probably would appreciate a dinner out to a Gulasz restaurant, because that dish reminds him of his old home on Pyndaph."

Alfred blinked, and let his head fall onto the table with a loud bang. "He's going to hate whatever I get him." Mei patted his head gently.

"I'm sure that he'll appreciate the effort, no matter what you got him. Just try and think of the little things about Arthur. He appreciates an eye for detail. I once got away with buying him a present because he liked it so much." Alfred looked up.

"What did you buy him?"

"Well, I noticed that he was always stressed on heists whenever we had to conceal ourselves behind some sort of wall, or we were feigning nonchalance and couldn't look behind us to see if we were being followed. I bought him a full-finger ring with small mirrored plates on it. he can use it to look at almost any angle."

Alfred gaped, feeling despondent. "That's fucking genius," he groaned, "but I don't have your brain, Mei! I've only known him for like, 3 months. How am I supposed to find something which he'll like, if he only really appreciates well-thought out gifts like that?"

"You'll think of something. I know you will. After all," she said, "he's already fond of you, so you'd have an advantage over someone like, say, Natalya." Alfred reddened at that, stomach fluttering a little. Arthur was fond of him? Mei smiled a little, obviously guessing at what he was thinking. Leon, who was equally perceptive, rolled his eyes again.

Alfred sighed. "Yeah, well, I'll try, anyway." He said as he stood. "You guys have heard about the mission coming up, right?" they both nodded.

"Yup. It's your first one, isn't it?" Mei said. Alfred nodded. She smiled. "Don't be nervous. They're sending a pretty high up fighter with us, so they'll know what to do. Not to mention, Arthur knows how these things work. Nothing bad will happen."

Alfred sighed. He wasn't entirely sure that she was right, but chose to put both Arthur's present and the impending mission out of his mind for now. Admittedly, he didn't know who was going on this mission other than Arthur, Mei, Leon and himself, and was somewhat curious to find out. They'd been told that the mission leader would be having a meeting with them later that day, where they would be briefed on only the basic details before being given a day to prepare, and then departing. As Alfred understood it, they would be briefed in full while on the way there. It was a covert operation, it was true, and he was anxious to not mess it up. Not just for his brother's sake, or his own – he liked the resistance, and wanted to help them if he could.

Alfred sighed, worries and doubts swirling around his head. Only time would tell if he was cut out to be a part of this movement, he supposed.

* * *

 _Szwicza District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
1st Jaune_

"You can't honestly be thinking of going back to work tomorrow." Lovino said, tone dismayed as he surveyed the damage done to Feliciano's side again. "What if those assholes come back again? You won't survive a second hit like that."

Feliciano winced, obviously trying hard to keep his hands away from his side. Lovino was lucky, truly, that the wound wasn't as deep as his own had been when he'd been stabbed back in mid-Janwir. His younger brother's injury was similar, but much luckier than Lovino's had been. The cut was shallower, for a start, as the man had stabbed him at an angle, and it had also easily missed any and all vital organs. If he'd been stabbed straight-on, Feliciano would likely be missing a kidney right now.

His brother could walk around, though bending and lifting things wasn't really an option for him. That was part of Lovino's conviction against him working tomorrow. Picking things up and moving heavy boxes was part of Feli's job, and if he did it too soon, he would likely just tear the wound open again. Lovino had been lucky to have a bottle of _Statica_ – a foul-tasting liquid which helped blood to clot – in the cupboard. A healthy cup full of the liquid on the open wound, and Lovino's dodgy stitching, were all that were keeping the wound closed right now.

Feliciano, however, didn't seem to agree with Lovino's common sense.

"I can just explain to Nazer that I've hurt my side and that I can't do any lifting or bending." He said stubbornly. "If you can continue to work after getting stabbed, so can I."

Lovino pinched the bridge of his nose. "Feli, I'm a lot more used to getting knifed in the gut than you are, okay? And even I took a few days off. Please, just until the 3rd. Do you really want to spend your birthday at work _and_ in pain?" Feliciano turned 17 on the 2nd, which was tomorrow. Lovino, being a responsible and caring older brother, had already bought him something, and he was hoping that he could convince his brother to stay home on the day.

Feliciano, however, pouted, "You never take time off work, so I shouldn't either." Lovino had to try very hard to not slam his head into the wall at this.

"Feli, I'm your older brother. It's my job to protect you and make sure that you're taken care of. I only learned to fight in the first place to make sure that if anyone tried to fuck with you, I could take them out. Being a stubborn ass isn't going to make you stronger. If that was the case, I would be able to take down the Union single-handedly."

Feliciano did giggle a little at that. Lovino sighed. "Please, just stay home a few more days? If your boss is really so nice and understanding, just explain that you're sick a need a few days off. If he fires you, we'll fuck him up and find you a new job."

Feliciano rolled his eyes "Fighting people isn't always the solution, you know."

Lovino shrugged. "It works well enough, I've found."

"Okay, fine, I'll stay off work until the 3rd." Feliciano threw him a mischievous grin. "Though, you'd better make my birthday pretty great, if you want to top what I did for you on your 20th."

Lovino grinned, "Challenge accepted," he said, "prepare to be blown the fuck away."

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
1st Jaune_

"A mission? Like, an actual fucking mission?"

"Yup. You're one of the ones who's been selected to go along."

"...Why in the system was I chosen?" Gilbert asked, gaping at Tino. The sniper shrugged.

"Fuck if I know. Alfred's going too, if it makes you feel any better. I am as well, though I haven't really been informed about who else." Gilbert blinked in shock, nodding in a confused daze. Tino gave him a sympathetic smile, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be okay. Even if you aren't the world's best fighter, I'll be hanging around in the eaves to shoot anyone who messes with you guys, so don't worry."

Gilbert actually did feel rather reassured by that – Tino was the best sniper in history for a reason – and felt himself relax a little. He nodded, a little less bewildered this time. Tino grinned. "Our meeting is starting soon, if I'm correct, so you might want to finish up here." Gilbert looked back and surveyed the ship hangar. Upon discovering that he had a talent for mechanics and repairs, he had been thrown in here along with a cheerful woman named Dalisay and a grave Iramese man named Gavrilo, and told to start working.

He had only really joined the resistance about two weeks ago, so he had understood why they were being cautious about assigning him jobs and training. He had been given a few chances to try out his firing skills at the rifle range they had here, but he had already been deemed 'competent' with a weapon, and so had been thrown in somewhere that he was able to be useful. He had spent a week trying to ignore the suspicious or wary glances from everyone who came to the hangar. They had started to drop off a little, particularly from the people who he worked with on a regular basis.

Most of the mechanics greeted him fairly happily now, and he could manage to have casual conversations with most of them now. Gilbert was normally very outgoing, to the point of over-enthusiasm and exuberance, but the rebels made it hard to be sociable. The one real bright point of the last fortnight had been the times he got to spend with rebels he had met before. Elizabeta had been assigned to essentially babysit him and ensure that he was doing what he was told, and he found that he rather enjoyed her company. She was fierce and stubborn, but he was as well, and she was probably the closest thing he could call a friend here.

There were others, like Tino, who were always friendly and kind to him. Though Gilbert appreciated their hospitality, he had to admit that as nice as the sniper was, he was equally intimidating. His reputation would have done enough to establish him as frightening, but he complemented the image by carrying a loaded rifle with him almost everywhere he went. Tino was hardly physically intimidating – he barely brushed 5'6'' height-wise – but Gilbert knew better than to judge him based on his appearance. He had managed to take down Berwald – who was 6'4'' and probably weighed about twice as much as Tino – of all people. His cheerful demeanour and warm brown eyes couldn't distract Gilbert from that fact.

Nonetheless, he was glad for the more cheerful company as he washed machine oil from his hands and arms and pulled on a new, much cleaner shirt. They were in the midst of discussing the adjustments which Dalisay had made to an x-wing fighter which had increased the ship's acceleration by about 15% when they were intercepted by Matthew.

Gilbert felt his stomach flutter when he sighted the now familiar violet eyes and light blond curls. It was an almost instinctual reaction by now, try as he might to ignore the sensation. The blinding smile which the rebel had on his face didn't help Gilbert's flustered mood.

"Hey guys! Headed to your mission briefing, I assume?" Tino grinned at his friend and nodded.

"Yup! On our way now. Are you coming with us?"

Matthew smiled sadly. "I wish. Since the mission was proposed yesterday, I can't go."

"Oh, that's right! Your suspension is finally over!" Tino said in delight. "I think Kristian was ready to cry with boredom, being stuck around here all the time." Matthew laughed, scratching at the back of his neck.

"True. Well, since I'm now free, he can finally get back to the Gafadari front like he wants." Matthew said. Tino nodded, and Gilbert felt instantly self-conscious when the blond's gaze shifted from Tino to him. The sniper grinned, slapped him on the back and moved past him.

"Well, I'll get going. Don't hold him up too long, Matt." Matthew rolled his eyes in Tino's direction, but when he turned back to Gilbert, his expression and voice were warm.

"I'm really sorry that I haven't been able to talk to you that much. The kitchen is a more hectic job than one would expect. I didn't even hear that you'd joined us until a few days ago."

Gilbert shrugged, hoping that his face wasn't red. "It's fine, really, I get that everyone here is pretty much always busy."

"Seriously, though." Matthew said, stepping forward and putting his hands on Gilbert's shoulders. "I'm really glad that you chose to join us. You're an amazing fighter, and I really think that you could do a lot of good here." Gilbert flushed even more, averting his entire face in an attempt to retain some semblance of composure.

"Uh, yeah, I'll do my best." He murmured, wishing that he could ignore the fact that he'd just realised that Matthew was ever so slightly taller than him.

"Oi." Matthew said. Gilbert felt his skin burn when Matthew grabbed his face in his hands and forced him to make eye contact. "You'll be great. Maybe I could convince Yao to let us go on a mission together at some point." Gilbert nodded a little, and was relieved when Matthew released his face. The rebel grinned. "Dalisay tells me that you're a pretty good mechanic." He felt his face heat up more.

"Ha, yeah, thanks." he said, making more of an effort to not look a little less hopelessly flushed. "I'd really love to talk more," he really would, to an extent that made him borderline concerned, "but I think that my meeting is starting soon. I don't know who our senior officer is, but I really don't want to piss them off so quickly."

Matthew smiled, but stepped away a little. "I think you guys have Ayshe, and she's pretty laid back, but yeah, you're right. Good luck with the mission, anyway." He said, turning to leave. Seized by an impulse, Gilbert called out to him.

"Hey!" he called, continuing when Matthew turned around to look at him inquiringly, "If I manage to come back alive, you're buying me extra dessert from the dining hall." Matthew laughed as Gilbert fought down the flush on his face.

"Fair enough!" he said, lifting a hand to wave as Gilbert moved in the direction of the briefing tent, only starting to slap at his hot cheeks when he was certain that the other man couldn't see him. He cursed under his breath.

Gilbert wasn't normally the 'crushing' type, but something about Alfred's badass yet sweet older brother had made him quickly develop one. It was weird, in a way, since he had never really had any interest in Alfred, and yet had immediately been drawn to the brother who freakishly resembled him. There was just something so distinctly different about Matthew – he was level-headed and mature, and yet full of passion and kindness; he was a fierce fighter and toughened by years of fighting the Union, yet Gilbert had once spotted him nursing a small desert fox which had gotten injured near the firing range. He was very physically attractive, that was also true, but it was his genuine nature and dynamic personality which had drawn him in like a fish to a bait.

It wasn't a good thing, in Gilbert's mind. Every other romantic interest which he had ever had in the past had rather viciously rejected him – primarily due to his disturbing parentage. He didn't blame them – he was an abomination, by the admissions of many people and legal systems. If anything, he should be grateful that he hadn't ended up with a serious disability or other problem. According to most of the sources he had looked at, the probability of someone like him being born and growing up without serious physical or mental handicap was very small. He wouldn't have been surprised if Matthew was just being nice to him on the basis of pity. He resented the idea, mainly because this crush was probably a lot stronger than most others he'd had in the past, but had to acknowledge the likelihood of it being reality.

Sighing, high mood dropping a little, he pushed apart the tent flaps and walked inside.

He immediately surveyed the room, heart leaping with joy when he saw that Alfred was, in fact, a part of the mission as well. Tino was lounging against a desk, and winked at Gilbert knowingly when he saw him. A very beautiful woman, who Gilbert guessed to be Nymian, was seated at the far side of the room, frowning at a pad of notes. She looked up briefly as he came in, nodding to herself. He smiled a little when he saw Mei and Leon reclining in a pair of chairs, muttering to each other in Yanish. Gilbert quickly moved to stand by Alfred, who greeted him happily with a hug and a flurry of questions as they waited for something to happen.

A pair of tent flaps on the other side of the room flew open after another two minutes or so, and a disgruntled but much healthier-looking Arthur Kirkland strode in. Noting his entrance, the Nymian woman stood. She practically exuded confidence and authority, and Gilbert found the words dying in his throat as he turned his attention to her.

"Now that we're all here," she said, voice warm and husky, "we can finally begin." Arthur didn't look remotely ashamed at the fact that he had obviously been late, slumping into a chair next to Mei. Gilbert noted how Alfred's gaze followed the pirate appreciatively, and privately reflected that he clearly wasn't the only one with a crush.

"First of all, to those of you that don't know, I am Admiral Ayshe Kartal. I am one of the most senior authority figures in the entire resistance, so if you came in here believing that this mission has been thrown together based on nothing, you are much mistaken. I have been assigned to lead this mission, and I have every intention for it to be a success."

She surveyed them, and Gilbert felt himself recoil a little under her dark, intelligent gaze. She reminded him greatly of Yao – they had the same air of quiet authority and wisdom.

"Our mission is dangerous, but simple." She gestured to a lit screen behind her. "This is the floor plan for the _Xi Lan Ey_ Intelligence Centre. It's a Yanish Union outpost on Reycass, and it manages some of the most important communications in the entire Union database, including many of the messages which pass between their sleeper agents and their managers. As I'm sure is easily understandable, it would be invaluable if we were able to intercept these conversations. Our task is to infiltrate the building, plant a bug which will give us access to the radio chatter, and get out completely undetected."

Gilbert blinked. He had been confused before, but now he was positively dumbfounded. This was a serious, high-stakes mission. He understood even less than before why he had been chosen for this. Alfred also seemed to be confused, though Arthur had a cocky, almost bored expression on his face. He was staring at the floor plans with a sort of vicious hunger – to him, it was another obstacle to overcome, another safe to crack. Mei and Leon looked a little worried, though Tino was grinning.

"The eight of us have been picked by Yao to perform this mission, and we are going to do it successfully. I'm normally a forgiving person but in this case I will not tolerate failure. You'll all be briefed further on the way, including our course of action to get into the building and plant the bug. You all have some sort of skill which Yao has deemed necessary for the success of this mission, so I expect you to treat this with all seriousness."

Alfred was nodding, but Gilbert frowned a little. Eight? There were only seven of them in the room.

As if in response to his unspoken question, a voice rang out from behind Gilbert.

"Get in undetected, plant a bug and get out again. Seems doable."

Alfred careened into Gilbert in shock as a young man seemed to materialise next to him. Blinking in surprise and shoving the blond off him, Gilbert observed the newcomer, recognition immediate and unwelcome. He took in the pale, sharp face and felt himself tense up a little.

"Doable is what we're aiming for, Lukas." Ayshe said as she turned back to the rest of the group, most of whom – save Tino and Alfred – were looking at the Fynknian curiously. "I am also expecting you all to exercise a fairly reasonable degree of obedience when I give you an order, and to at least attempt to get along well." Her eyes flittered towards the prince as she said it. "You might be relying on one of the other people in this room in a few days' time to save your life, so be friendly." Ayshe's tone was commanding, and Gilbert resigned himself to doing as she said. Tino merely grinned at the Admiral, saluting cockily.

"In case you weren't aware, we ship out at 0500 hours tomorrow. You've all been given the rest of the day to pack any necessary clothes, weaponry or other tools, and rest up a little. I expect to see you all a half-hour early tomorrow. Try to get a good night's sleep, because we'll be jumping right into the thick of planning tomorrow." Gilbert blinked at the abrupt and matter-of-fact tone in her voice. "I won't tolerate bullshit on my ship, so don't expect to be catered to."

They all nodded, though Gilbert found himself glancing nervously at Lukas. He was younger, slimmer and shorter than Gilbert, yet he was undeniably off-putting. He was attractive, in a sense. He was certainly physical appealing, but there was a sort of dark, alluring energy about him. Of everyone going on this mission – the fierce Admiral, the self-preservationist pirate and the intimidating sniper – Lukas definitely freaked him out the most. The Fynknian made eye contact with him no sooner than the thought had left his head, as though he could read minds.

 _Right,_ he thought, _he can do even that, can't he?_

The prince inclined his head at him slightly, eyes narrowing just the smallest bit. The look very clearly said, _yes, and don't you forget it._


	5. The Pleasures of Kindness

**Ok, I'm really sorry for missing a week! I'm going through severe writer's block right now on Chapter 6, not to mention that I've recently fallen into yet another fandom (god damn it My Hero Academia) and I'm lacking in motivation. I've also, if I'm being completely honest, just been a bit down recently. I'm currently in holidays, but despite having more time to write, I'm struggling. I hope you guys can forgive me if updates are less forthcoming in the next few weeks/months. I'll try my best, but I won't make any promises I can't keep. Thank you all for your immense support so far; it's a huge factor in why I continue to struggle forward even when suffering from writer's block. I love you guys!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Matthew's probation is finally over, and he is free to continue working in the resistance.**  
 **\- Alfred is continuing to struggle over what present he should get Arthur for his (overdue) birthday**  
 **\- Alfred, Ayshe, Lukas, Gilbert, Arthur, Tino, Mei and Leon have all been selected to go on a dangerous mission to an intelligence centre. The team already seems a little tense around each other.**  
 **\- Feliciano is recovering after being attacked and has agreed to take a little more time off from work before returning.**

 **Please tell me what you think!**

* * *

 _Szwicza District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
2nd Jaune_

Being a kind and considerate older brother, Lovino chose not to wake his younger brother up at the crack of dawn on his birthday. He trudged quietly into their apartment at 2am, stretching and suppressing a groan. His shift had been as dull as ever – the graveyard hours, as they were called, were appropriately named – he had seen a grand total of 17 people over the course of 5 hours. The store was located in a lesser populated part of the district, it was true, but even then, it had been a strangely quiet shift. He had spent almost the entire time aimlessly browsing the aisles, plucking a few different foodstuffs from the shelves and eating them while reading lists of ingredients.

His night shifts were normally quite dull.

He had had a few interesting visitors, however. One woman who was clearly on cocaine had wandered in, bought 15 bags of chips and left. Another young man who had been sober but lost had taken up 20 minutes of Lovino's time by asking him for directions back to a university campus. His face had whitened considerably when Lovino had informed him that he was just a block or two away from the Szwicza District, which he had laughed at. The owner of this store had hired Lovino specifically because he was from Szwicza – he had counted on the fact that Lovino would be able to defend the store.

Indeed, on only his third night working there, someone had tried to rob the shop. Lovino had quickly dispatched them with a knife to the upper chest, and calmly wiped blood off his hands as he phoned both the police and his manager to explain that there'd been an attempted robbery. He would never forget the stunned look on his manager's face when he had walked into his shop to see a dead body on the floor and one of his employees, hands bloodied, calmly talking to a police officer.

Lovino sighed quietly, dropping the bag that he took with him to work on the couch to soften the thump. He cast a lone glance over at his brother, tucked into bed and sleeping soundly. Feli was determined to return to work tomorrow, a prospect which Lovino did not approve of. He was reminded all too well of his own injury all those months before – the parallels seemed almost uncanny. Perhaps, Feliciano was becoming more and more like him. He shivered slightly, it was an unsettling thought.

Feli's determination was strong, that was for sure, and he was ignoring what was best, as Lovino knew he himself did frequently. Honestly, he had been mugged, stabbed and nearly raped, yet he was most concerned about earning money. Lovino muffled a yawn behind his hand and quickly double-checked that the present he'd brought for his brother was still inside his bag.

Groaning with exhaustion, Lovino dismissed the idea of climbing into bed. The bunk bed they shared creaked and groaned like none other – it would wake his brother for sure. Resigning himself to a sore back and creaking joints, Lovino dragged a blanket onto the couch, and collapsed underneath it.

* * *

Lovino woke up barely a few hours later. He blearily looked over at the clock. 7:38am. Five hours, not bad.

He sat up, twisting around to crack his back, neck and fingers. Sighing in relief, he stood, glancing at the bunk bed. Feliciano was nowhere to be seen. Frowning slightly, he moved around their apartment, before hearing a tell-tale clatter from their kitchen. He had barely taken a step forward to move inside when his brother exited, blinking in surprise when he saw Lovino standing there.

"Lovi! I swear I need to attach a bell to you; you're so quiet." Lovino smiled a little as Feliciano hugged him.

"Happy 17th, Feli." He chuckled. Feliciano pulled away, grinning. "Now, I have a few things for you."

"You shouldn't have bought me anything!" Feli exclaimed. Lovino raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't respond, quickly retrieving his bag from the end of the couch and opening it. Despite his assurances that Lovino shouldn't have gotten him anything, Feliciano still drifted over curiously, clearly intrigued.

Lovino pulled several packages from the depths of his bag, and struggled to resist a smile when he saw evident alarm on his brother's face at how many of them there were. He handed him one, patting the space on the couch next to him. Feliciano took it begrudgingly and sat down, picking open the wrapping paper. He smiled radiantly when a switchblade rolled out. He had been asking for one, especially since he was attacked. Feliciano exclaimed in delight and hugged his brother. Smiling, Lovino gestured for him to open the rest.

Feliciano's smile only widened as he unwrapped, one by one, a book which Lovino had seen him eyeing, a bright yellow wool beanie, a pair of fountain pens (Feliciano loved writing with them) a small sketchbook and a tin of wafer biscuits. He laughed at every stunned look and warm hug he received from his younger brother. Tensing a little and wondering if his final gift was appropriate or not, he retrieved a last package from his bag – this one wrapped in grey cloth.

Feliciano seemed to have picked up on his change in mood, and looked at the small object curiously when Lovino handed it to him. Unwrapping it, he seemed completely perplexed when a small spark lighter rolled out. Lovino sighed.

"You have no problem with control…you just have a problem with creating. Here," he picked up the lighter and struck it. A small flame appeared at the top, "make it grow." Feliciano leaned away a little, looking nervous.

"I don't think I can."

"Try, please."

Feliciano sighed and gazed at the flame. He extended his hand toward it and twitched his fingers slightly. The flame doubled in size, glowing vibrantly. Feliciano nearly fell over in surprise, staring at it when Lovino whooped in victory. Testing his boundaries even more, Feliciano twisted his hand again and blinked in shock when the flame detached from the lighter and hung in the air, suspended perfectly as it continued to burn with no source. Making a small, beckoning gesture with his hand, Feliciano grinned in disbelief when the flame moved to engulf his hand.

Lovino smiled, glad that his idea had worked, as Feliciano watched the flame a moment more before clenching his flaming hand into a fist, extinguishing all of the fire. He vaulted himself a metre forward to hug Lovino, and he laughed, messing up his younger brother's hair.

"Like I said. Your problem seems to be actually _creating_ fire, not controlling it. until we can figure that out, this is a pretty good substitute." Feliciano grinned, nodding.

"Thank you, Lovi."

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
2nd Jaune,_

 _0430 hours_

Alfred groaned, rubbing his eyes as he staggered into the docking bay of hangar 3. Peering around blearily, he was somewhat comforted to see that Gilbert looked just as exhausted as he did. Mei and Leon both looked rather tired, but were managing far better than himself. Arthur seemed fine, though given the semi-permanent status of the dark rings beneath his eyes, Alfred couldn't be sure. Tino was beaming even at this early hour, sniper rifle slung over his shoulder as always.

The intimidating Admiral who was conducting their mission looked awake and alert. Yao was here, awake even though he wasn't involved, and was talking to her. The admiral's expression looked drawn and displeased in a way, but she was nodding along to whatever Yao was saying. Alfred slumped into a seat next to Gilbert, gazing up at the sleek hull of the ship which sat just a few dozen metres away. It wasn't the biggest ship ever – a lightweight starship, or LWSS, if he was correct. It probably meant that they would have some room-sharing.

He sighed, the thought of bed appealing immensely to him. Alfred, in keeping with Admiral Kartal's policy of taking this mission seriously, had packed his things last night, and even gone to the trouble of eating and getting to bed insanely early. The simple fact was that Alfred wasn't a morning person, and he found the fact that Nyma's normally vibrant cobalt sky was a dark shade of dawn grey borderline unacceptable. Gilbert was clearly as exhausted as he was, and greeted him with nothing more than a grunt of recognition when he sat down. Alfred cracked his neck loudly and leant on his hand, looking around.

There was a single ground crew which had been woken up to make final checks on the ship and all of the supplies onboard. He guessed that the resistance must usually have duties to be performed early in the morning, because they all looked alert and focused. He sighed, pressing his face to the blessedly cold metal wall of the hangar. This journey was going to be exhausting in addition to extremely dangerous.

"Hey, are you two even awake?" a sharp voice rang out to his right. Looking up and rubbing his eyes, Alfred felt his mood lift when he saw Arthur standing there. He grinned sleepily.

"I wish I wasn't," he said, "though if nothing exciting happens, I'll be passed out on the floor soon."

Arthur raised an eyebrow "I saw you go to bed early, though. Surely you slept long enough?"

Alfred laughed a little, cheeks flushing red, "Ahh, yeah, the morning and I have never really gotten along well." Arthur laughed at that, and sat down next to him.

"I hear that," he chuckled, "I've been a complete night owl most of my life. It's only been in the last few years that I've really managed to wake up before noon." Alfred grinned, stomach tumbling giddily both at the sound of Arthur's laugh and at his close proximity.

"How do you do it?" he asked in an exaggerated tone, leaning against the wall a little, as Arthur grinned.

"Alcohol, obviously." He said, plastering a falsely-knowledgeable look on his face. "How else?"

Alfred laughed, shooting Arthur a radiant smile. "True, true."

The moment was interrupted by a shout from the other side of the hangar – Ayshe.

"Everyone, get over here! We're leaving in ten minutes!" the tall Nymian woman yelled. Arthur gave Alfred a look of clear exasperation, before jumping up off the seat and walking over to her. Groaning in resentment but acknowledging the necessity, Alfred followed.

Ayshe waited until they were all gathered around her. "Okay, so, as I said, we leave in ten minutes. If you need, you can take that time to contact anyone before we leave. We're probably going to be gone on this thing for about two weeks, as we'll need time beforehand and after the mission on Reycass. Again, I expect obedience to a fairly reasonable degree. This is an important mission, and you can be sure as hell that if it goes well there'll be some rewards waiting for you. Please try to treat one another with respect. Again, I do not tolerate bullshit."

She eyed them all sharply. "Get your gear on board, now. We aren't privileged enough to all get our own rooms, so we're gonna be sharing, two in each. Figure it out."

She turned and marched over to a group of technicians gathered nearby. Tino raised an eyebrow.

"Damn. Ayshe's normally pretty chill. She seems a little pissed off this morning."

"Maybe because it's not even 5 am yet?" Mei yawned. Tino grinned a little, but shook his head.

"Nah, Ayshe is normally up early anyway." He murmured. "So, either the mission is getting to her or it's something else."

"What else would be stressing her out so much?" Lukas inquired. Alfred jumped a little. The guy seemed to materialise out of nowhere. Tino shrugged.

"No clue." He said. "Anyway, we should probably do as she says and pick our rooms."

Mei nodded. "Does Admiral Kartal get her own room, or is she sharing too?"

"She's also sharing," Tino said. He considered Mei for a moment. "Why don't you room with her?" Mei nodded, a looking a little relieved to be sharing with another girl. Tino surveyed them all, before seizing Lukas by the arm. "We're sharing." The Fynknian just nodded simply.

Alfred had a moment of stark indecision as he debated between rooming with Gilbert or Arthur. On the one hand, Gilbert was one of his best friends, didn't snore and was actually a very pleasant roommate, but on the other hand, sharing with Arthur would mean getting to spend more time with him.

 _And you'd just spend all of your time ogling him._ A little, completely correct, voice murmured in his head. _What would you do when he was changing-_

Abruptly silencing the voice before his face could go too red, Alfred declared that he would share with Gilbert. That left Arthur and Leon together, which they both agreed was a good outcome.

Alfred, trying to disguise his embarrassment at his own thoughts, dragged Gilbert up the stairs with him so they could pick the best room. He underestimated how immature the others were, however, and found himself slammed against the doorway as Tino rocketed past, laughing in glee. Leon was close on his heels, and Alfred blushed as Arthur approached, eyebrow cocked in amusement. Sending him a smile which completely disarmed him, Arthur walked past him at a sensible pace.

Blinking in shock, he walked in after him, and wandered along the corridor to see if Gilbert, who had run in alongside Tino, had managed to snag them a good room.

He had, as it turned out, and it was Leon and Arthur who got stuck with the smallest one. The Yanish teen seemed uncharacteristically annoyed by this, while Arthur shrugged in disinterest.

Alfred grinned and high-fived the albino when he saw that he'd managed to not only get a decent-sized room, but also one with beds slighter larger than all of the others. Gilbert grinned proudly as they unpacked their things. Checking the time, Alfred sighed. They left in a few minutes, so there was no point in leaving to do anything now.

His thoughts were interrupted when someone knocked on the door. Turning, Alfred grinned when he saw his brother standing there. Matthew grinned, though he looked very tired.

"I thought I would see you guys off," he said warmly, "especially since I'm not allowed to come along." Alfred smiled.

"I wish you could. The rest of our crew are either sarcastic and bitter or intimidating and creepy." Matthew raised an eyebrow, seeming to know exactly who he was referring to when he said 'creepy'.

"Lukas is not creepy, Tino and Ayshe are really not that intimidating when you get to know them, and as for the others?" he shrugged, "You know them better than I do, so I won't get involved there." Alfred laughed a little, before walking to the door to hug his brother.

"Ayshe is enforcing a strict policy of respect and cooperation, so I don't think we'll even be given a chance to fight or argue." Matthew laughed.

"Yeah, that sounds like Ayshe."

Alfred frowned a little. "Tino said she seemed angry or upset about something. Do you know what it is?" Matthew gave him a sidelong look.

"Well, essentially, yes. It's Yao, and though I don't know the specifics, you should just tell Tino that. If he's in the mood to explain, he will." Matthew slapped him on the shoulder. "Anyway, good luck." He looked over Alfred's shoulder at Gilbert. "Both of you, take care of yourselves."

Gilbert nodded, face looking a little red. Matthew smiled at them both again and walked back the way he'd come. Alfred shot a look at Gilbert. He had personally blushed enough in the past six or seven weeks to know exactly what it meant. Another knock on the door made Alfred jump in surprise.

It was Arthur. "We're leaving now, just so you know. You might wanna get strapped down." Alfred nodded, feeling red spread across his face and neck.

"Uhh, yeah, sure, um, okay, yeah, we will."

Arthur nodded, walking in what was obviously the direction of the cockpit. Alfred risked a glance at Gilbert, who looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"If we don't discuss my crush on Arthur, we also won't discuss your crush on my brother." He snapped. Gilbert blinked, looking very much so a deer caught in headlights.

"W-what? I, I don't…" Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, and I'm Nymian." He said sarcastically. "C'mon." he gestured for him to follow, and moved down the length of the ship, towards the others.

* * *

Tori sighed, tucking loose strands of brown hair behind her ears as she tugged at the dull tunic she was wearing. Though she didn't miss Aralos at all, she had been somewhat sorry to lose her old robes. She'd spent years wearing and repairing them when they'd gotten holes in them. They had become almost a signature part of her appearance. One item of clothing which she had been happy to receive was a pair of good, leather boots. The shoes she'd worn back on Aralos had always been weak-soled and ragged. Often, if she'd ever gotten into a scuffle, she had had to ditch her shoes just in order to move around properly and have a fair chance of winning.

She kicked gently at the red dirt beneath her feet, wincing a little at the bright glare which reflected off the vibrant earth. She'd had a tough week, admittedly. Visiting her friends who were still imprisoned had been even more difficult than usual. They had all looked more downcast and miserable since Gilbert had chosen to leave them. Tori knew none of them had been expecting his departure from their group, and it had obviously stung Matthias a lot. She had seen the albino around a bit, mostly in the ship hangars, and had been personally delighted when he'd made the decision to join the resistance.

A part of her felt guilty – he had been friends with Matthias and Francis and Antonio long before he had ever met her, but at the same time she rejoiced that more of the people she had quickly come to care for were joining her here.

Learning her true identity…it had been like a punch to the gut. Lukas was a very no-nonsense sort of person, and hadn't given her feelings of shock, denial and confusion much consideration after he'd spoken to her. His explanations of her past and her family had been succinct and informative, without much room for speculation or concern. The only part of his explanation where he'd shown some measure of warmth or pity was when he had explained what he knew of their deaths.

 _"The Union made sure that all of our parents died horribly. The Vargas' were lucky, in a sense; their mother and father were assassinated years before the Expansion even happened. Our parents were the first targets of the mercenaries who broke in, though, and they didn't show them much mercy."_

She sighed. He hadn't wanted to give her many details about her parents and had only divulged one fact about the deaths of his own – that he had been the first one to find their bodies. It stunned Tori, honestly, that he could talk about it in such a dismissive manner. Lukas wasn't a very emotional person at all, so she supposed that he could just be hiding how he really felt, but it was still jarring.

Tori had been delighted that spending time with Lukas had helped her remember a few things. He had hypothesised that the crash on Aralos had left her with retrograde amnesia, and the completely unfamiliar environment which she had found herself in immediately afterwards had prevented any sort of recollections from taking place. After all, Aralos was a hot desert planet, whilst Daerna was lush and forested. She also hadn't spoken the language when she'd first landed – she'd had to learn over time. It had only been when she was in her early teens that she had put together the pieces and realised that she had arrived during the Expansion. Even then, though, she had never suspected that she would be more than a grungy peasant girl.

Now that she was remembering more and more of her home, it seemed obvious that she had been special. Even without Lukas' confirmation, she would have at least thought she'd been wealthy, from the memories of having servants alone. Since he'd told her about her true identity, Tori had been able to recall walking down the resplendent halls of what she assumed now was the palace in Daerna's capital, as well as sitting in a parlour room and learning different subjects like mathematics and foreign languages. She remembered only brief flashes of her parents, though.

Her mother had been the oldest of the three Free Court leaders at the time – she had been two years older than Lukas' father and nine years older than Carina Vargas – and Tori could remember that her mother had already borne a few grey hairs mixed among the dark brown, and laugh-lines had been etched deep around her eyes. Lukas had told her that her mother hadn't been very fertile, so it had been feared that she wouldn't be able to continue the Laurinaitis line. Her father, however, who had been younger than her mother by four years, had been quite the opposite. Even then, it had still taken her mother five years to conceive her. According to Lukas, many people on Daerna had been beyond relieved. Her birth had been met with planet-wide jubilation, and days of celebrations. It was almost surreal to think about. For so long, she had thought of herself as just another impoverished girl on Aralos, but when she was little more than a newborn, her existence had been celebrated with enthusiasm.

She remembered more of her father than her mother. It was only logical – her mother had been the royal one, and as such had been saddled with all sorts of political and economic duties. Her father had still had responsibilities, but he had also been able to spend a lot of time with his daughter. Her father had been a handsome man, she recalled, with hair even darker than her own, with a short beard speckled with grey to match. His eyes had been Daernic green like her own, but much darker, with the ring of colour around the pupil closer to copper in colour than her own gold. He had been Augustinas Kazlauskas before he had married her mother and taken her name. Though her memory was still full of vital holes, she remembered enough to miss him. He had been very good-humoured and compassionate, an advocate of equity – he and her mother had met during a protest against universities in Daerna's capital which had been unfairly discriminating against people who weren't of pure Daernic heritage.

An ordinary 19-year-old had gone to a protest over racial inequality, met the Queen of the planet and ended up marrying her just 4 years later. It gave Tori hope whenever she felt like she wasn't going to be able to achieve anything. Lukas had shown her a photograph of her parents not long after they'd been married – her father had been 23, her mother 27. He had read aloud the small subtitle on the back.

 _"Queen Gabija Laurinaitis and her newly-wedded husband, Prince Regent Augustinas Laurinaitis."_

They had both looked so happy in that photograph – her mother had been wearing her dark hair up and braided with flowers. Her father, who had positively towered over her, hadn't even been looking at the camera, instead staring at his new wife with an expression that indicated both intense love and a sense of astonishment, as if he were wondering how he had managed to woo a Queen. Tori kept the photo on her person now. It was the only one she had of her parents which didn't make her think of the fate which had awaited them. It brought her joy to see her parents young, happy and beautiful, despite what had happened to them.

She sighed. There was no point in dwelling times gone by. Tori loved her parents, but there was nothing that she could have done to save them. The best way for her to honour them, as Lukas had said, was to grow stronger and serve the planet she had been born to rule. It was a daunting idea, but perhaps, with Lukas to help explain the madness of her past and her future, she could manage it.

* * *

 _'Grounded' Café, Veroda District,  
_ _Bibesti, Rela,  
_ _3rd Jaune_

Feliciano had been managing fairly well until Kairat's usual unpleasant streak showed itself again.

Lovino had been incredibly reluctant to let him go back to work, but after downing an entire cup of _Statica_ , redoing the bandaging and promising to be careful, Lovino had relented and let him go, though he had insisted to accompany him to the edge of the Szwicza District to prevent him getting attacked again. Feliciano had been very touched, and had been sure to keep his new switchblade and lighter in his pockets, in case he had to protect himself again.

Lovino had been very wary about the lighter.

"Just remember, our survival depends on us being cautious and secretive. Do not, and I repeat, _do not_ use your _Fuenar_ unless your life is in legitimate danger. If a body showed up with strange burn marks, if _someone_ _saw you_ –"

"We'd be doomed and probably captured by the Union and murdered. I know, Lovi. I promise that I would never do it unless absolutely necessary. I'm so bad at it anyway, I'd probably be better off fighting injured with a knife anyway." Lovino had studied him for a while, as if trying to detect a lie, when he'd sighed, nodded, and dropped the matter.

Nazer had been very kind and understanding about Feliciano's absence when he'd arrived at work that morning, and had merely made sure he was completely okay before ushering him back into the kitchen with a smile on his weathered face. Arman had brightened up upon seeing him back, and welcomed him with an enthusiastic handshake. One of their chefs, Enlik, had merely nodded in recognition and turned back to the spicy dish she was cooking.

Aizhan, the friendly girl who managed most waitressing duties, had greeted him with a hug. She was naturally curious, but had abstained from asking questions about why he had been away, for which he was grateful. The only person who hadn't been happy with his return was Kairat, who had looked increasingly sour as the day progressed. The man had never liked him, but Feliciano could have sworn that, for reasons he didn't know, Kairat was starting to dislike him more and more as time went on. The man had skirted around where Feliciano was washing up all day, growling and glowering, but was yet to do anything. He seemed to be waiting for Feliciano to slip up. Noting the anger on his face, Feliciano had tried all day to make sure that he did exactly as he was told, and didn't unduly anger the tall Relusian.

Unfortunately, he wasn't able to stay perfect forever.

Feliciano had been stacking dishes when Kairat had sidled up next to him to plug in a blender. He had accidentally brushed against the older man, and Kairat had turned on him with an unwarranted and blistering rage.

"You ever heard of personal space?" he snapped, glaring at him. Feliciano blinked, taken completely off guard. He really didn't understand what he had done so wrong.

"Um, sorry, Kairat. I was just trying to stack dishes. It was an accident." He murmured, shifting away a little.

"Well you should have waited until I had finished with the machine."

Feliciano felt himself bristle a little. He really didn't know what the older man's problem was, and for once, he let his frustration show.

"I was here stacking dishes before you even came into the kitchen. If anything, _you_ should have waited until _I_ moved. I was nearly done anyway." He snapped back. He could feel heat gathering in his chest. He very rarely got angry – in that respect, he was very different to his brother – and didn't appreciate the emotion much. Kairat glared at him, straightening up to better look down on him.

"Are you fucking serious? I've worked here far longer than you have, not to mention, my job making food to give to customers tomorrow is more important than you stacking fucking dishes."

Feliciano frowned. He couldn't argue with Kairat's second point, but he failed to see what the first had to do with anything. He was getting legitimately angry, he could tell. Feliciano's fists were clenched, and he could feel them tingling slightly.

"So what? You're wasting more time by being an ass about the existence of my arm." Feliciano retorted. Aizhan, who had scurried out of the kitchen when the argument had begun, poked her head in the doorway, looking concerned. He was distracted by her reappearance for just long enough that he didn't see Kairat's elbow moving until it had already slammed forcefully into the side of his stomach.

He barely heard Aizhan's yell of alarm; the wave of pain which surged through his side was intense. Feliciano staggered, hands flying towards his wound as his other side pressed into the cold metal of the sink. He distantly felt his knees go weak and hit the floor as he curled in on himself. His world narrowed down to the burning in his stomach, and the feel of his hands pressed against the area. He didn't know how long passed like that, but when some of the pain-induced confusion dispersed, he realised that Aizhan was next to him, as was Arman.

He could hear yelling, and could feel fingers gently prying at his hands. He tensed his muscles, unwilling to let them touch his injury. He raised his head slightly, blinking. Nazer had also entered the room and was approaching him, and Enlik, standing to the side, looked concerned. Kairat had gone pale, though judging by his indignant expression, he was trying to convince the others that whatever had happened wasn't his fault. Feliciano shifted his grip a little as the world righted itself. His fingers felt slick.

He found himself being ushered into a chair before he could even comprehend leaving the floor. Feliciano blinked. All of their faces seemed too close, speaking fast and loud. He felt tired. After what felt like an eternity, he could finally make out what they were trying to say to him.

"– could be serious! What were you thinking?" This remark was directed at Kairat, who cowered a little under Nazer's harsh gaze, but somehow retained his reticent and obstinate attitude.

"I didn't think that he'd collapse for no reason!" the man snapped, glowering. "He's just putting it on to make you angry at me." Nazer looked enraged at this. Feliciano's attention was drawn away, however, as he felt Aizhan gently pull his hands away from his side. He winced when he heard her gasp, and followed her gaze. He was wearing a black shirt, so it wasn't very obvious how bad his injury was. His hands, however, were slicked with red. Aizhan scurried away from him, presumably to get their medical kit. Feliciano focused on his breathing, trying to block out everything else, including the fact that Kairat and Nazer had both noticed the blood on his hands and fallen silent.

Feliciano tried in vain to keep his mind on anything else as Aizhan pulled his shirt up, wiped the blood from his side and started to tend to his wound. Her expression had shifted into one of horror the moment she laid eyes on it.

"This…this is a stab wound." She stared at him. "You were stabbed?"

Feliciano winced, wishing he could move away but knowing he couldn't without a great deal of pain.

"Uh…maybe?" he said, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. The others all looked stunned.

"W-what? Stabbed?" Arman said, looking very bewildered and frightened. "Here? Feliciano, if you really got stabbed, you need to report it."

He looked up, puzzled. Nazer nodded.

"Yes, he's right. Honestly…I honestly can't believe that…in Veroda itself. The last time anyone was attacked here was over a year ago." Feliciano groaned internally as he realised. They believed he had been attacked within the Veroda District, which was famous for having virtually no crime – a large contrast to some of Rela's other crime-ridden districts.

"No…that's really not…" he trailed off as Nazer began to list the crisis centres and mention the closest police station, and asked him where he had been stabbed.

"It's better if you can remember where it happened, so that they can track down the maniac." He said, as if he was referring to a serial killer rather than a dime-a-night mugger. Feliciano sighed, shifting slightly as Aizhan continued to stitch up his wound.

"No...Nazer, it's fine, really." He said. "It was a few days ago, anyway-"

"So, you haven't reported it?" Kairat snapped, already back to glaring at him. "Well, you're just endangering the rest of us, then." He didn't even have the time to argue against Kairat's statement as Aizhan spoke up.

"These stitches are _not_ professionally done. Oh god, Feli, have you not even gone to a real hospital?" He was about to try and scramble together an answer for that, when Kairat spoke up again.

"Why didn't your parents take you to a hospital? Or inform the police? Are they complete savages? Have they no basic intelligence?" he spat. At that, his patience was finally gone. His hands were prickling, but he ignored the sensation as heat swooped and burned in his gut.

"First of all," he snapped at Nazer and Kairat, "I wasn't stabbed in the Veroda District at all, so calm down. Your perfect District is still crime-free. Second," he hurled his next statement at Aizhan, "Unlike some of you, not everyone has the money to afford health insurance. I'd rather suffer through amateur medical work than pay out 7000 marks for someone else to do it slightly better. And third," he turned to Kairat again, glaring with the full force of his anger, "my parents have been dead for over ten years, so don't you dare say anything against them."

The shop was completely silent as he sat back in his chair, anger already fading into shame at his outburst. The others looked shocked and, in a few cases, abashed. Nazer and Aizhan were avoiding his gaze, and Arman looked rather taken aback. Feliciano drew in a deep breath, already regretting his words.

"Fair enough, then," Kairat said, unsurprisingly the first one to recover, "but…where were you stabbed, then?"

Feliciano sighed. "the Szwicza District." Arman's eyes basically bulged out of his head at that statement. Aizhan stiffened and gawked at him, and even Kairat seemed stunned.

"T-The _Szwicza_ District? Why in the system would you go there?" Arman exclaimed, looking shell-shocked.

"Honestly, if you were stupid enough to go to the most dangerous place on Rela, you deserved that stab wound." Kairat snapped harshly. Feliciano sighed.

"I'm not some idiot who just wandered in or ducked inside the border on a dare, okay? I live there. I've lived there for six years."

Yet again, all of his co-workers were rendered silent. Feliciano enjoyed the moment of silence, and leant back, wincing slightly as his wound stung painfully.

"…Oh," Nazer said quietly, stepping back a little, "you…oh." He sat on the nearest chair, looking like he was struggling internally with something.

"Yeah," Feliciano said, "I'm one of those 'dirty savages' who actually has to live in the most dangerous part of Bibesti." Arman winced. It was a phrase he had used a few times now to describe the inhabitants of the district. The others all seemed too stunned to speak, and Feliciano sighed. "Listen, it's not a big deal, okay? I only got attacked because I let my guard down. No one would care about a violent mugging in Szwicza."

"You're a seventeen-year-old boy, you shouldn't have to be worrying about 'keeping your guard up'." Nazer said, looking deeply saddened. Feliciano shrugged, feeling deeply uncomfortable.

"Not everyone gets to live in places as nice as the Veroda District. I'm sorry, but that's just a fact. It doesn't bother me. Living there isn't nice but it also isn't quite as horrible as everyone says it is."

They were all silent, before Kairat spoke up, tone a little kinder than normal.

"How are you going to get home, then? You're injured."

Feliciano shrugged again. "I normally walk."

"Alone?" Aizhan exclaimed, looking horrified. "But…but that's so dangerous!"

"I'm normally okay. It is more dangerous at night, admittedly, but so is every other district. It's never too bad as long as I get out of here at a reasonable time."

Nazer threw a look at the clock. The whole drama had taken up about half an hour already. They had already stayed here longer than they normally did.

"It's getting late." He murmured. "Come now, Feliciano, there's no way you can walk home alone."

Feliciano fell silent, considering. He looked at the time again. It was true, in this state, he would probably just end up getting attacked again. He bit his lip.

"…I could call my brother." He murmured. For what seemed like the 100th time that night, his co-workers blinked in shock.

"You have a brother?" Aizhan said, looking surprised. Feliciano looked at her.

"Of everything I've said tonight, _that's_ what shocks you the most?" Aizhan blushed but didn't say anything more. Feliciano sighed. "Yes, I have a brother. I guess I could call him so he could help me get home?"

Nazer nodded. "That sounds like a good idea."

* * *

It didn't take long for Lovino to show up outside _Grounded_. In fact, Feliciano barely had time to recollect himself, sit back for a few minutes and quietly apologise for his outburst before the door swung open and his brother walked in.

Well, 'walked' was a generous term. Lovino looked tense, expression stormy and guarded. Verifiably marching inside, he was completely out of place in the clean, homey little café. Feliciano normally tried to clean himself up a little before coming to work, for the simple reason that Veroda was a more high-brow district than Szwicza. His brother hadn't been so bothered – he was dressed in the same ragged clothes as always, and his hair was ruffled and messy. There was machine oil smudged on one of his cheeks, and grime under his fingernails. Nonetheless, Feliciano saw Aizhan immediately turn scarlet upon sighting him. It was no secret that his brother was extraordinarily attractive. Lovino had always said that he could thank their mother for that. He'd shown him a picture of her once. He was right – she had been incredibly beautiful, and Lovino resembled her immensely.

Even in his bedraggled state, he had still drawn the attention of all of Feliciano's co-workers. He had to resist the urge to laugh at their facial expressions. His brother never failed to make himself the centre of attention, whether intentionally or not, that was for sure.

Feliciano had made the mistake of mentioning which one of his co-workers had injured him when he'd called his brother and spoken to him in Jhobrasian over the phone. Lovino's gaze skimmed across all of their name badges, and his lip curled when he saw Kairat. The older man clearly understood the danger in his gaze, and stumbled back a little, looking a little frightened.

Lovino sent him a look likely to put the man in an early grave, then rushed to Feliciano's side. He barely had to glance at Aizhan to make her dart away with a small yelp of fear. Feliciano would have laughed, but he knew such an action would only exacerbate the pain in his side, so he restrained himself.

"Uh…I'm glad that you were able to get here so quickly," Nazer said, looking a little awkward, "I really didn't want to send Feliciano home alone while he was hurt."

"If your servers were less aggressive, he would be completely fine." Lovino snapped at him, sending a glare at Kairat. Kairat held his hands up defensively, already with his cocky attitude back in place.

"Hey now, it was an accident. Your brother shouldn't have been standing in my way." Lovino stiffened, then rose slowly.

"I don't know what sorts of things they teach you here, but do you honestly believe that I'm stupid enough to believe that his injury is this bad because you _accidentally_ brushed against him?"

Kairat straightened up, confidence obviously returning when he observed that he was taller than Lovino. "In any case, what does it matter? He'll be fine." Lovino was silent. To the others in the shop, it must have appeared that his brother was lost for words. But Feliciano knew better, and he knew that his brother was getting close to drawing his dagger and sinking it hilt-deep into Kairat's leg.

"Oh? So you think that a fucking _stab wound_ is just another minor injury? You think he'll just be able to walk it off?"

Kairat rolled his eyes. "His body will heal. In any case, shouldn't you people be used to it? I hear that stabbings are a frequent thing among Szwicza's lowlifes."

Lovino nodded slightly, a sinister smile beginning to form on his face. "You think so?"

Before Kairat even had the chance to snap out another sharp remark, Lovino had crossed the space between them, drawn his knife and pressed it gently to the older man's throat. The others all gasped, while Feliciano simply rolled his eyes. He had never thought of himself as particularly tough or battle-hardened, but compared to these guys, he might as well have been a grizzled military commander, for how easily they reacted to the smallest of things. Feliciano had had knives pressed to his throat more times than he could count, and he knew that his brother would never actually slit the man's throat.

But Kairat blanched anyway, and went so still he resembled a statue.

"You should really know something; slitting throats is a more common practice than stabbing. As a 'lowlife' as you so deemed me, do you really think I'd hesitate to hurt a piece of self-important, arrogant trash like you?" Kairat said nothing, eyes on where Lovino's fingers were curved around the handle of the knife. "If you ever lay so much as a finger on my brother again, I'll fucking end you, okay bastard?" Kairat managed the barest of nods as Lovino drew the knife away, turned his back on the man and helped Feliciano to his feet.

The others watched them leave silently. Feliciano sighed a little as the cool night air hit his face. He had his arm draped across Lovino's shoulders, while his brother was holding him around the waist.

"I'm going to be pretty annoyed if I have to go back in a few days and beg for my job back." He said weakly. Lovino snorted as he half-carried him down the street.

"Oh well. I would rather you not work at all over you working in a place with an asshole like that." His older brother said. "I want you to work somewhere that you're appreciated. You're my little brother, not another kitchen runt."

Feliciano blinked back a few surprising tears and leaned his head slightly on his brother, grateful, more than anything else, that he would always have his brother by his side.

* * *

The stranger ran her hand gently down the doorframe. She could see it, feel it, almost _smell_ it. The barest trace of heat on the wind stirred excitement in her belly. Her journey home had not been in vain, then.

She tilted her head upwards, regarded the storefront for a moment, then moved on. It was early – very early. It was more likely that her target had been to the small café only for a meal – they were unlikely to return there, though she concluded that it was wise to revisit the place again, just in case.

It was good to be home. Her garments had inspired much attention while she'd been on other planets, but here, she was a more recognisable sight. People paused in the streets to nod their heads or bow in respect, but there was none of the fear that people of Incanda or Rywan had displayed. She decided that she would return to the Citadel soon, to see her sisters and brothers-in-arms, but for now she was content to wander the streets of her home planet. She was somewhat disappointed that her targets lay here, in Bibesti. All her searching, and all she had to really do was wait at home for them to come to her? It seemed awfully unfair to her, especially when she had been so put out by her quest to find them.

She paused in front of a darkened storefront, observing her reflection. She looked the same as ever, save for her hair. Normally bearing a characteristic windswept look, it currently appeared a little lacklustre. She twitched her fingers upward, as if beckoning something. A gust of wind obediently surged upwards in front of her face, blowing loose locks of her hair out of place. She re-examined her reflection, now satisfied, and moved on.

She would continue her search later, but for now, she was happy to be home.


	6. An Itch That Can't Be Scratched

**Ohhhhhhhh myyyyyyyyy gooooooooooodd I am so so sorry guys!**

 **I really did mean to stick to a normal updating schedule with this...I really did! Since it has been *checks watch* 4 and a half months since I updated, I feel like I owe y'all an explanation. The last time I updated was right after my school term ended, so I thought that it would be fine for me to update right after writing the chapter. Unfortunately, life hit me like a bullet train.**

 **Throughout the school holidays, I was trying to organise everything from a formal (prom) dress to studying to suffering from procrastination and writer's block. School started up again about two weeks later, and oh boy, was that a whole thing and a half.**

 **I graduated high school! Yay! My last term of school was insane, but I had a lot of fun. I was totally ready to keep writing, however, my family went on holiday to Europe about two days after I finished, so that left no time for me to write before we left. While in Europe, my screentime was severely limited, as was my wifi, so I never had an opportunity to post. Combine all of these things with a writer's block on Chapter 6 that's been killing me since October and...yeah, I went on hiatus.**

 **As well as that, well, I knew where I generally wanted this story to go, but I hadn't fleshed out a lot of details. Recently I was hit with inspiration (har dee har for anyone who follows my tumblr) and managed to give my random ideas some proper structure.**

 **So now that I know where I'm actually going with this, I should hopefully be able to update more regularly again! Yay!**

 **Again, I'm so so sorry for my absence guys. Please understand!**

 **I won't lie; I don't know when I'll update this next, but I can promise that I'll be working on the next chapter as much as possible! I'm going to be trying to churn it out before I start university in two weeks, so feel free to shriek at me if another update hasn't appeared by then!**

 **Anyway, now that that's done;**

 **RECAP:  
\- Feliciano had his birthday and turned 17. He discovered that he can control pre-existing fire, just not create it.  
\- Alfred, Gilbert, Lukas, Tino, Ayshe, Arthur, Mei and Leon left for their mission to the Intelligence Centre.  
\- Tori did some reflecting on her parents and home.  
\- Due to Kairat being an asshole, Feliciano's injured side was made worse. His coworkers found out about his living conditions and background. Lovino showed up to help him home, and threatened some of them.  
\- The mysterious woman tracked down the cafe where Feliciano works.**

 **Note: this chapter all takes place on the same day, which is also the same day as the rebel sections from Chapter 5. This is the day before the incident in the cafe from last time. (This is code for; the author fucked up the chronology, so please be merciful)**

 **Please review! I love you guys!**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
2nd Jaune_

After just barely keeping himself from passing out on the airfield while watching the ship fly away, Matthew trudged towards the mess tent, yawning so wide he feared he would accidentally dislocate his jaw. His brother seemed nervous but also keen for the mission, and Matthew once again cursed that he wasn't able to go with them. He knew that Alfred was a capable fighter – he'd seen it himself while helping him assimilate into resistance life the past few weeks, but anxiety clawed at the edges of his thoughts nonetheless. Despite having been separated for a good 11 years or so, Matthew's instinctual overprotective nature had flared up again. He couldn't help but want to protect his younger brother from everything which might harm him.

It was stupid, really, especially given that Alfred was only a year younger than him. Even despite the small age gap, though, Alfred just seemed so much more _innocent_ than Matthew did. He could fight well, yes, and was indeed a former criminal, but the violence which racked most of the universe nowadays still seemed to shock and surprise him, whereas Matthew addressed it with unsurprised disappointment. Even though he had seen some of the worst that the universe had to offer, Alfred still seemed to believe that it was constrained to certain places and people.

Matthew knew better. Darkness lingered in every corner of the universe, and anyone who was pushed the wrong way could fall under it's shadow. He had seen more than one of his fellow fighters succumb to anger and hatred and savagery. It was a horrifying thing to see, but inevitable in a way.

He tried to push his thoughts away from his brother and the mission that he was embarking on. Ayshe was a very strong woman, and he would trust her with his life in an instant. Not to mention, Tino and Lukas were also on the mission, and he knew that they were very good at all kinds of combat. From what he had seen so far, Arthur Kirkland was also a force to be reckoned with, though that wasn't a surprise, given his reputation. Considering his many talents, his young underlings would likely also be quite strong on their own, despite their young ages. Gilbert was a fighter who Matthew might, with a little convincing, admit was near his own level of aptitude, and a good friend of Alfred's who would definitely protect him. So why did he feel so worried?

Perhaps it was the nature of the mission itself. Infiltrating intelligence centres was always dangerous, especially since they had so much more security. Matthew had gone on a few such missions himself, and they never failed to make his limbs tense up and stomach churn uncomfortably. More likely, he conceded to himself, it was the simple fact that this would be the first time they were separated since being reunited back in Maarch.

Already, Matthew felt strange about the whole thing. He and Alfred had been separated by force in the first place, anyway. It had never been something that either of them had wanted. And that separation had been very taxing for Matthew. They had grown up practically attached at the hip, and not necessarily because they were extremely similar or shared all of the same interests.

Their parents had never been kind to them, and it had taken Matthew a few years of being separated from them and seeing how other people treated their children to realise that what he and Alfred had endured had been abuse. They'd been subjected to endless cruelty by their parents, but since a lot of it hadn't been physical, he hadn't recognised it for what it was. Whenever he or Alfred had been hit or kicked by their parents, he had known it was wrong, but it took him a while to realise that the same was true of times when they kept them from going outside for weeks, or locked them up in dark closets for hours, or ruthlessly crushed their curiosity by outlawing the simple act of asking a question.

He sighed, rubbing his hands up and down his arms as he leant his head against the table which he had sat down at. It was too early for breakfast, but the front of the hall had a selection of packaged things to pick from so that those on the night shift wouldn't be dying of starvation in the 12 hours between dinner and breakfast. Matthew had capitalised on said system more times than he could count whenever he was on a night shift.

Matthew let himself lie on the table for quite a while, only registering how much time had passed when people started to filter into the mess hall. Some newbies gave him an odd look, whilst others just shook their heads sympathetically, no doubt assuming that he had been assigned to a night shift and had been awake for many hours. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, completely unwilling to get up and face the tasks of the day yet.

Someone poked him in the head.

"Huhh?" he groaned, sliding his head up to pick out his company. His gaze met a pair of amused green and gold eyes. "Oh, it's you."

"A little sleepy there?" Tori teased, sliding onto the bench next to him and giving him a quizzical look. Matthew groaned in response, and she giggled. "I'm guessing that you got up to send them off?" at his nod, she sighed, "I was going to, but, you know, sleep."

Matthew laughed at that, finally forcing his body into an upright position. "I can relate to that." Tori smiled at him, looking a little nervous. Noting her anxiety, he shifted his casual grin into something a little more comforting and reassuring. "Are you ready for today?" he inquired. She shrugged, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

"I mean, I guess so? I'll have to learn sooner or later I suppose."

"You'll do fine, I promise. Not to mention, Laila will be around just in case you go a little overboard or something." Tori relaxed infinitesimally at that, nodding as she registered the usage of Emilia's alias.

"Okay, that's good. Who else will be there?" she asked, obviously trying to portray herself as being calmer than she actually was. Matthew frowned a little, trying to recall who else would be present for the exercise.

"I think Octavia and Elizabeta are coming along too. Since they're Daernic too, they probably know a little about the topic." Tori nodded, brow creasing when she noted the absence of a name she had obviously been expecting. "Is Yao not coming anymore?" she asked quietly, knowing that just the mention of the rebel leader was enough to draw attention to a conversation.

Matthew shook his head. "No, I think he's off strategizing again. He doesn't seem to know what to do with your friends." Tori winced.

"I know that he doesn't trust them much, or, well, _at all_ , really, but they're good people!" she protested. "I don't think that they would sell me out to the Union." Matthew nodded.

"I know that, and not just from what I got to know of you guys while we were bringing you back to Nyma, but the fact is that we're far more worried about them outing Lukas than you. They know you, they care about you, but they have no sort of emotional attachment to Lukas, so I doubt they would feel bad about handing him in."

"But even if he's my friend-"

"Tori, they clearly all like and care for you, but I feel like they would only afford him the luxury of remaining hidden if it was someone else in your party insisting on it. I do hate to mention it, but you haven't known them half as long as they've known each other." Tori bit her lip and looked down.

"Yeah, I know that you're right but…" she sighed, "I just wish that they could go free. Imprisonment is starting to really get to them." Matthew nodded sadly.

"I know, but right now the executive decision on what happens to them rests with Yao. I would suggest that you plead their case to him."

Tori nodded, then gestured to the food line. "Looks like breakfast's finally started. Wanna grab some?" Matthew grinned, good mood restored, and nodded.

They discussed more trivial matters as they ate, ranging from the newest shipment of weapons which had been intercepted over in the Gafadari Grasslands, to how ridiculously cute Kristian had been when he'd shown up to morning briefing wearing one of Vlad's shirts, and how impossibly red he had turned when he had realised his slip-up.

Tori was laughing and telling him a joke that she'd heard from Gilbert once when Elizabeta seemingly materialised by the side of their table, smiling encouragingly.

"Hey Liz," Matthew said, "time to go, I assume?" grinning, Elizabeta nodded.

"Yeah, sorry to interrupt your meal, but Octavia wants to get out to the site before it gets too hot." Matthew sighed.

"Fair enough," he said, snagging the apple from his plate and biting into it as he stood. Tori hesitated for a moment before rising as well, putting her tray on one of the automated carts that zipped to and from the kitchen and turned back to them. Some of her nerves seemed to be returning, so Matthew re-deployed his most comforting smile.

"Come on, you'll be fine," Elizabeta assured her. "Now let's go! We still have the whole trip there yet." Tori forced a smile and nodded, following them outside.

* * *

Yao scowled again, trying to resist the urge to continue pacing around his tent. It was starting to feel like his life progressed immediately from one issue to another, leaving him no breathing room or time to lower his defences. His imprisonment and trial back in Maarch had taken up weeks of his time and worn him out both mentally and emotionally. When he had finally thought that he was in the clear, with his name cleared and the spy caught, he had been foolish enough to believe that he might actually get a break for once.

Yet, not even an hour after the decision made by the judges, he had had his current problem dumped into his lap. Yao heaved a great sigh and slumped onto his bed.

Eighteen people; nine bounty hunters, seven pirates, one assassin and a lost queen. Of the eighteen, six of them had voluntarily decided to shift their allegiances to the resistance, and one was lingering around the camp because his friends were still locked away. There were still eleven people locked within the cell block on the outskirts of their camp, and Yao had absolutely no idea what do with them.

Of the six that were now a part of their ranks, most were completely harmless. Having Tori in their midst was a huge step forward for the resistance, and Yao was greatly buoyed knowing that only the elusive Vargas brothers were still out of their reach. Matthew's spirit had been completely restored by having his younger brother join them as well, and the younger man was so genuine that Yao had no reason to distrust him, though he was possessed of such an earnest congeniality that it honestly baffled Yao as to how one person could be so unfalteringly cheerful.

The other bounty hunter, Gilbert Beilschmidt, still seemed skittish and a little unsettled around camp, but Yao knew that that was due more to his parentage, and the related fear that the young man likely had of Garvich. He seemed to be relaxing a little, though, and was clearly a skilled mechanic and decent fighter to boot. Yao could see him being an asset in the future.

The only problematic one among the bunch that had joined them was Arthur Kirkland, and Yao hadn't really been expecting anything different from the infamously volatile pirate. He was obstinate to a fault and tended to skirt very close to the line of what Yao deemed unacceptable, but he was incredible at pretty much everything that he had been ordered to do, and keeping that sort of talent close at hand was undeniably within the resistance's best interests. Even with the Captain's rough edges, though, he had benefitted them even further by inadvertently bringing with him the two young fighters that seemed so attached to him.

The two Yanish teens – Mei and Leon – seemed to have received training from Kirkland, given how similar their respective fighting styles were to his, and were obviously very fond of the man, though the boy tried to show it less than the girl did. Just like their boss, they had also quickly proven to be useful assets in a fight.

But it wasn't those that had joined their cause that Yao was worried about. It was the ones who didn't.

He could automatically dismiss Ivan Braginsky as any sort of threat. His bounty hunter friends had stopped him from finding out about Lukas in order to let him keep his liberty. It had surprised him, honestly, but it was an intelligent move on their part. The towering Ellmish man had been an odd sight around the grounds in the last few weeks, but had so far addressed everyone around camp with courtesy, and not enough curiosity for Yao to deem him a threat. He had helped lead the rebels back to where their ship had been left a few weeks earlier, which had finally allowed them to give the bounty hunters and pirates some of their personal effects.

Other than Braginsky and the six, however, the group posed a threat.

Yao sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pulled out the notes that his top analysts had been able to draft up on the members of the group.

Roderich Edelstein; 27 years old, Incandan, and an underling of Arthur Kirkland. He was Gilbert's cousin, and a talented fighter. He was more refined in nature than most of his colleagues, and seemed a little too clean-cut to be in such a profession. His date of birth was the 26th of Octava, 4484CC, and one of the only other stand-out factors about the man was that, according to public health records, his mother had died of Chalydrantis about 3 ½ years ago, and he had a teenaged brother. All-in-all, somewhat atypical for a pirate, but not exactly as eye-catching as his employer. Yao turned to the next file.

Yael Cohen; 20 years old – an Iramese woman with an impressive criminal record. There was even less information about her than there was for Roderich. The only details that stood out to Yao were that she apparently was a former underling of another pirate, Jack Kelly, and had a fondness for balisong knives.

Eduard Von Bock; 21 years old and a technological expert from Ellmin. He reportedly had had a role in some major crime syndicates who had broken through government firewalls in the past. He wasn't much of a fighter, but could fend for himself if necessary. He constituted a good deal of Kirkland's crew's brainpower.

Natalya Arlovskaya; the last of the pirate crew still being kept prisoner. She was only 19, and the half-sister of Ivan Braginsky. She was a fighter if Yao had ever seen one, having ranked first numerous times in her hometown mixed martial arts and professional archery, shooting and knife-throwing competitions. So far, her criminal record was clean, but his sources had highlighted the profile of a prolific young criminal that they had linked to her; said profile had accrued a little over 117 criminal charges. Young Arlovskaya had been the one to plan the attack on Matthew, Lukas and Tino which had resulted in all of their identities being exposed. Yao carefully marked her as one to watch and set the file aside.

Next up was Berwald Oxenstierna. According to Yao's notes, he was 23 – very soon to be 24 – and from Rywan like several of his comrades. The man was very physically imposing, though past educational records also indicated that he was rather intelligent as well. He had even managed to land a solid hit on Tino when the sniper had taken him down, which was an impressive feat. He didn't seem to be quite as greed-driven as the others, but Yao was still cautious about him.

The sixth file that Yao extracted from the pile belonged to Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, a 22-year-old man from Jhobras. He had been part of the bounty hunters' group for a few years now, and was a talented fighter. He had a far more sunny and warm persona than one would expect from a criminal, though he could be just as cold and callous as Yao at times, too. He had a few marks on his criminal record as well, but obviously didn't frequent crime as much as some of his friends did.

The next profile was that of Louise Beilschmidt, the younger half-sister of Gilbert, and another of Roderich's cousins. She was only 19 years old, and didn't seem to have quite as active a role in the bounty hunters' group as her brother did. She also seemed less attracted to criminal activity in general. She and her brother had clung together for years after their parents were murdered on Incanda, and her closeness with him was reflected by the indecisiveness that some of Yao's underlings had stated she seemed to possess. A part of her seemed to be wanting to join the resistance with her brother, while the rest of her wasn't sure. Indecision was better than outright denial, in any case, so Yao counted it as a win.

The next in the pile baffled him slightly. The man in the group with long blond hair, an unplaceable accent and blue eyes was, according to his file, Francis Bonnefoy, a 21-year-old man from Rywan who had since bounced around the galaxy a bit. The profile struck Yao as odd, though, because absolutely no record of the man existed prior to late October of 4506. At least in terms of a paper trail, Francis Bonnefoy had only existed for little under 6 years. It made no sense to Yao, and it was enough to set him on edge. It wasn't uncommon for those in the criminal underworld to create new personas for themselves to avoid conviction for a crime, but if his papers were to be believed, Bonnefoy would only have been 16 at the time that the trail started. Yao wasn't sure what sort of crime a 16-year-old could commit that could be so severe to resort to such measures, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

The next profile belonged to the group's second-in-command, Feliks Lukasiewicz, a man who, according to Matthew and Tino, Tori was unfortunately very fond of. He was 19, and Pyndaphian, and had a criminal record dating back to when he was just 10. Unlike many of those in the group, who had obviously turned to a life of crime in a time of hardship or been forced to take the path, Lukasiewicz was one of the rare souls who was born into crime, raised by it, and flourished under its care. Yao had heard the stories from Matthew about how the kid had managed to take down a fully-grown Garvich even while severely injured and weak. Yao was simultaneously reluctant and curious to see what he would be capable of in a fight while at full health. Whereas some of the others in the group were clearly those who had ended up in the lifestyle of a criminal, Lukasiewicz had the harsh and calculating nature of someone trained in their profession and well-versed in violence. Tori's evident fondness for the bounty hunter made the whole situation a lot more difficult, considering that, of all the prisoners, Lukasiewicz was one of the ones that Yao would be fastest to get rid of.

Sighing, Yao pulled out the second-to-last of the files after carefully marking Feliks' as being 'of concern', not hesitating to add the same label to the folder on his lap. Vash Zwingli was a name that even Yao had heard before, and not the only one that he knew the man to be called by. From 'Gold Cobra' to 'Silencer' to 'The Whispered Blade', the criminal underworld – and civilian society – had many names for the assassin. His prowess was hardly a secret, and anyone with a brain knew that, should one want any sort of target to be eliminated, they should call on Vash Zwingli. The name had become even more saturated with infamy just two years ago, after he had apparently taken out some big-shot crime mogul in a casino shoot-em-up. It was an impressive, if not bloody, legacy for a man who was just 26 years old. It was almost certain that Vash Zwingli was not the man's real name, so the file in front of Yao was essentially useless. He did know that the man was very intelligent, however. He had been the one to determine Lukas' identity based on minimal evidence, after all. He was, in Yao's mind, definitely one to be watched.

Grimacing in anticipation, Yao scooped the last file – arguably the most important one of them all, and the one that could, if the half-formed idea swirling around in the recesses of his mind came to fruition, solve this whole debacle.

He examined the photo of the cocky, grinning man on the front with an objective eye, taking in the features that he had already observed in real life – spiky blond hair, dark blue eyes and a crooked grin. Yao opened it fully, looking at the basic information that had been collected by his agents.

Matthias Kohler was 22 years old, and set to turn 23 in just a few days. He was born on the 5th of Jaune, 4489CC, in the town of Ålkskar on Rywan. According to the medical evaluations they had conducted a few weeks ago, he was 188cm tall – 6'2'' – and was blood type A.

Beyond the surface, though, Matthias Kohler was a far more interesting man than his outward appearance would suggest. His criminal record was splashed with minor offences dating back years, though Yao knew that he had likely committed far more offences than his record indicated. He had the same sort of dangerous air that Feliks Lukasiewicz did, and considering that, even with his own prowess, Lukasiewicz wasn't even this group's leader, Kohler likely was even more capable than the Pyndaphian man was.

His subordinates had reported that the man had displayed a great deal of skill in the few combat scenarios they had observed him in, and in addition to brute strength also appeared to be very fast and agile. Being a bounty hunter, and presumably a very talented one at that, Kohler undoubtedly was also observant, calculating, intelligent and analytical. His age also meant that he likely had more training than most, if not all, of the other bounty hunters in his crew. It was clear just from observing their behaviour that Kohler had a certain amount of sway over the others. If he had _enough_ sway, then Yao's mad idea might actually work.

Sighing deeply again, he placed the file in the smaller of the two piles, and rubbed his eyes. His plan might only really work in the first place if the mission to the Xi Lan Ey Intelligence Centre worked out okay. He would wait a few days to propose the idea, and hopefully by then his next move would be a little clearer.

It didn't happen very often, but it was times like this that Yao _really_ hated his job.

* * *

 _Ror'a Plateau, Nyma  
About 320 kilometres (200 miles) east of Draak Zafi Forra_

Tori exhaled heavily as her knees slammed into the hard-packed dirt once again, choking a little on the reddish dust which had been kicked up into the air. She struggled to calm down her breathing and loosen the tightening knot in her chest. Her head was pounding, so much so that she didn't register the approaching footsteps until they were right beside her.

She felt a hand rest between her shoulder blades, solid and comforting.

"Are you alright?" Emilia asked, tone obviously concerned, Tori drew another shaking breath and nodded.

"Y-yeah, I," she gulped in more air, "I…think I'm doing something wrong. I can barely do anything that you're telling me to, and it's…it's so damn _tiring_."

Emilia chuckled. "I'll be honest, I don't remember much of when I first learned to use my gifts, but the exhaustion? Yeah, I remember that _vividly_. It's normal."

Tori frowned. "But I've already _learned_ how to do this. I must have been taught by my mother when I was a kid, right?"

"Yeah, you definitely were, but do keep in mind that you haven't used either of your gifts in, what? Eleven years? It makes sense that you're a little rusty. Not to mention," Emilia continued, pulling matted locks of hair off Tori's forehead, "I feel like you probably also have a little bit of a mental block going on in there. You don't _remember_ learning this the first time. Because of that, you can't even translate theoretical practice into actual practice, because none of that theoretical is there. You're not building yourself from the ground up, you're trying to dig yourself out of a basement."

Tori snorted at the comparison, but smiled gratefully. "Okay, okay, fair enough. Well, in that case, how far am I to getting out of the basement?"

Emilia hummed. "I'd say that your head is nearly touching the ceiling." Tori smiled again, and staggered to her feet, breathing deeply.

"Alright, let's go again."

Emilia took a half-step backwards. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. How else will I improve, right?" Grinning at her response, Emilia retreated to a safe distance, fiddling with her long silver hair before dropping her hand and locking her gaze onto Tori.

"Alright, go!"

Tori closed her eyes, focusing intently on the earth about four metres in front of her. She focused on the feeling of the rough, uneven surface pressing into the thin soles of her boots, and, very slowly, she felt something register. Her awareness spread from the ground directly beneath her feet outwards, until she could feel the earth around her within a rough radius of maybe 5 metres or so.

It was an odd sensation to describe. It was almost like her sense of smell, if she were the subject producing a scent. The further away from her the target was, the weaker her sense of it was. It felt like another sense, in it's own way. When Yao had found out (via research) that she could use the ground to detect movement and other things, he had recommended that she try to extend the ability. So far, she had been able to do it, though it was a slow process. Actually moving the earth as one massive entity was proving to be extremely difficult.

She had managed to move small, detached parts of the earth, like rocks and gravel, but trying to manipulate slabs of rock or create tremors was proving impossible, which wasn't a good sign, especially considering that small rocks and gravel were unable to be much use in a fight. Her goal as of now was to try and put a crack in the surface of the ground. It was a small step, infinitely small, even, but Yao insisted that all process began with small steps rather than large bounds. So, for now, she was focusing on the small task.

Even small as it was, it was posing quite the challenge. Tori shifted her focus to the surface of the earth, but, just as it had happened a moment ago, she found herself swept up by the details. She could feel every groove, pebble, weed, layer of dust and every minute crack that a mixture of dryness and exposure to the sun had left in the ground. She could feel how the earth spread out in every direction, before, miles to her left, sweeping sharply up into a craggy mountain range. She could feel the minute pressure of Octavia, Elizabeta, Emilia and Matthew standing on the plateau about fifteen metres away. And, far, far below where she was standing, she could feel the pressures of tectonic plates shifting, moving at a pace much slower than was visually observable, and she could feel the immense pressure as they pushed and pushed and _pushed_ -

"Tori!" she opened her eyes. She was on her knees again, Emilia once more beside her.

"Shit." She cursed, rubbing her forehead. "How long was that?"

"About 15 minutes or so." Emilia confessed. "I mean, it's taking you longer to get distracted, at least?" Tori sighed.

"I know, but I wish that it didn't happen at all. Ugh," she buried her face in her hands, letting out a groan of frustration, "I wish that I could use my gifts like you and Lukas use yours."

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Viktorija." A voice called. Tori looked up as Octavia approached and leant down next to her, smiling. The Vice-General had consistently accompanied her whenever she had to train her gifts, and the sight of her face had quickly become more and more familiar and comforting. "Everything takes time. Just be patient and give yourself the opportunity to adjust. You've undergone a huge shift in just the last six weeks, so it's no shock that it isn't coming as fast to you as it otherwise might."

Tori felt herself relax. "Yeah, I know, I just…" she sighed, "I just want to be useful? You know?"

Octavia smiled gently. "You already are. Now, I think that's enough for one day, don't you agree?" Tori opened her mouth to protest, but at Octavia's gentle but firm look, she faltered, sighing again as she flopped backwards onto the ground, covering her eyes with her arm.

"Fiiiiiine." She groaned, trying and failing to resist a smile when she heard Emilia snickering. Sitting up, she accepted the Fynknian girl's helping hand and staggered to her feet.

Dusting off her brown vest and black pants, Tori fell into step beside Emilia, grinning even as she panted with exertion.

"You know, I've been thinking," Emilia started, "since it seems to be that a mental block is what's stopping you from using your gifts, if you wanted, we could see if me helping you access your memories would help at all?"

Tori looked over at her, surprised.

"Do you really think that that might work?"

Emilia shrugged. "It might, it might not, but it's worth a shot, right?"

Tori nodded. "Alright then, let's try it." She hastily added, "Another day, though. I'm beat."

Emilia laughed. "Yeah, I can imagine. Come on! If we get back early, we get first dibs at dinner!" Grinning, the Fynknian immediately began to run towards the cargo truck that they had all taken out here, quickly jumping up into the back.

Smiling at the younger girl's enthusiasm, Tori nodded to herself, and bolted after her.


	7. Who Are You? Why?

**And I'm back. This was a much smaller gap than the last one, wasn't it?**

 **Thank you all so much for understanding my absence and being so kind to me! I don't deserve readers like you!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Tori has been training her gifts more and more, with the help of Emilia and Matthew.**  
 **\- Yao is considering some way of convincing the bounty hunters and pirates to join the resistance. He has a particular interest in Matthias**  
 **\- Wow, nothing else happened in the last chapter okay then.**  
 **\- Also, last chapter was all on the 2nd of Jaune (June), just so we can keep the timeline here straight.**  
 **\- Also remember that weird lady stalking Lovi and Feli? Yeah, remember her ;D**

 **No super bad warnings, I think? A few threats, some mentions of depression and murder, MCBAD-WORD SWEARS.**

 **Oof, this was a monster of a chapter. 7,620 glorious words. Please review, and I hope y'all enjoy!**

 **Just a side note, too, if any of you don't understand a part of the story/universe/lore or want to know more about something, feel free to DM me and bug me for answers! I love talking to people!**

* * *

 _23UP, Riiko District  
Bibesti, Rela,  
5th Jaune_

 _0400h_

There he was.

It had taken her days of searching before she had picked up the trail again. The faint traces at the café in Veroda had helped greatly on her mission, but it had been the scent on the wind – the smell of fire – that had attracted her here.

It wasn't a surprise to find him here, just a few blocks from the most dangerous district on the entire planet. Szwicza was filled with every form of lowlife, but some people didn't end up there by choice. She knew that, and felt sorry for those for couldn't afford to live somewhere safe. She had patrolled around Szwicza before, as her way of trying to help the city and repay the many debts she owed. It was a desolate place, populated with the desperate and vindictive.

She exhaled slowly, running her gaze up and down the man through the window. His appearance looked somewhat washed-out – no doubt a result of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling that cast a cold, whitish light on everything in the store. His skin, which she could guess would be a much richer olive shade without the influence of the lights, was speckled at random with scars and small marks. She noted one scar in particular that curved around the outside of his right elbow, and wondered distantly what exactly he had done to receive it.

His eyes were less washed-out, being protected from the overhanging fluorescent sheen by his hair as they were, and she could see the bright amber colour of their depths. His eyelashes were long and full – another characteristic trait. His face was perhaps a little thinner than what was perfectly healthy, but she knew that it was only her trained eyes that picked up on such a fact. He had high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. She traced her own chin with her hand as she gazed at it.

His clothes were simple – a white shirt, dark pants and a small, dark apron which indicated that he was an employee. His feet were wrapped in worn, faded leather boots, the ends of which looked dangerously close to fraying apart.

His hair was black now, unnaturally so, of course. She had looked at old photos, and envisioned the actual colour. Dark burgundy, just like his beautiful mother. The resemblance was remarkable, actually. Carina would have been proud of her son, she knew.

The eyes were on her. She stilled. In her moment of focus, she had somehow become distracted. He was straightening up from his relaxed pose against the counter, the casual position of his lean body shifting into something that was more guarded and much warier. His eyes were locked onto hers, and the effect took her breath away.

He was beautiful, really. She doubted that she had ever seen a man more stunning, and didn't think that she ever would again. It was…a shame.

Maintaining eye contact, she raised her right arm, curling her hand into a fist, leaving only her pinkie finger out, and placing it over her heart. She straightened her back and then bowed, a bend so carefully executed that her torso formed a perfect, 90° angle with her legs. She rose slowly, raising her eyes to meet his face again.

The pale colour of his face wasn't from the lights this time, and she did nothing more before she turned on her heel and marched down the street.

* * *

What. The. Fuck.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma  
5th Jaune_

Matthias smiled a little as Feliks again nudged the small plate of cookies towards him.

"Seriously, thank you guys, but they were meant to be for you-"

"Nope, too bad, we don't want them." Feliks said firmly, trying to push the plate towards him again. Matthias sighed, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Whenever the rebels fed them, they also tended to give them all small, sweet things to chase away the blandness of some of the food. For most of them, it was the best part of the day.

However, the ten others that he was still locked up in the cell with had insisted that he have all of theirs because-

"It's your birthday!" Antonio protested. "We would be really shit friends if we didn't do anything at all!"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that you guys need to give up your food for me." Matthias protested. Berwald stared at him blankly, as did half the others, as though they couldn't understand why he was refusing their (admittedly very tempting) offer.

"Just take it. It'll make them shut the fuck up." Vash growled, jabbing his thumb at Antonio, Francis and Feliks. Matthias snorted at the look of muted agony on Vash's face as the three immediately began protesting his statement. Still chuckling, he reached out and accepted the plate, thanking them all profusely.

"So, 23 years young." Francis teased. "Feeling old yet?"

Matthias glared at Francis. "In what world is _23_ old?" Francis grinned.

"Mine, of course."

"Francis, you turn 22 in like five weeks."

"Says the one basically backing himself into a retirement home."

Some of the others burst out laughing at this, while Matthias tried to maintain the look of insulted, melodramatic hurt on his face.

"I'm surrounded by assholes." He said, grinning. Francis coked his head at him jokingly.

"You hadn't figured that out already?" Matthias snorted, smacking him on the arm.

"Whatever, jackass. Thank you, guys, really."

The last two months had been tough. Their situation had only gotten weirder and more unpleasant when their friends had started to leave – though he couldn't deny that the room it had freed up was very welcome – and, though they weren't all people that he thought he would befriend, Matthias had actually gotten to know some of Kirkland's crew quite well.

He would never claim to know them inside and out, but they had bonded over their pointless situation while they'd been imprisoned, and he would like to say that he could at least call them his _friends_ , at this point. Ever since Arthur had left to take the rebels up on their deal, Matthias seemed to have somehow become the stand-in leader for the group of all eleven of them. His friends had always treated him like their boss, and after a few weeks, the pirates began to do the same thing.

By this point, any guard that came to their cell to distribute food or give them information seemed to know to address Matthias first. It was a weird responsibility to be given, but he didn't mind it. His mother had always told him that he had the charisma to be a leader, and he had managed to lead his own crew fairly well so far.

Even though they had all been getting on better recently, the wide space was still good. Not only was it annoying to constantly have people crammed right next to him, but most of them had started doing small workouts every day, and being stuck right next to a sweating person in an already small and humid space was not pleasant.

Even with his attempts to maintain his own health, Matthias could feel himself getting weaker and weaker. He was sure that the others could feel it too. Their long confinement was beginning to seriously get to them all. The rebels had started to supply them all with Vitamin D supplements since it had been so long since they had seen the sun.

Matthias would have expected that sitting around in a cell with nothing to do but eat and sleep would have made him gain weight, but the opposite was happening. The rebels gave them medical check-ups every fortnight, and Matthias had been consistently losing weight since mid-Apryl. He supposed that it was in part due to muscle atrophy, and the oppressive heat and endless sweating probably didn't help either. Since they weren't out in the strong sunlight, they had all switched up their clothing style to as-long-as-it-covers-the-essentials-I-don't-care-how-short-it-is, and also adopted the habit of lying flat on the ground to stay cool.

He honestly would have shot someone just to get to run around outside, and he had begun to glare jealously at the rebels who walked past their cell block. Most of the time, other than the daily workouts that they all subjected themselves to, they couldn't really be bothered doing anything.

That was part of why Matthias had been legitimately surprised at their attempts to celebrate his birthday. They had all been gradually succumbing to the infuriating clutches of hopelessness and depression, and the fact that they were even attempting to do something for him was very sweet. Even if the day only made them all more aware of how much time had passed, it was a nice sentiment.

He sighed, resting his head on the cooler stone behind him as he took in the chattering of his friends. It was nice at times to detach himself from the conversation and just watch it happen around him. Matthias was an extrovert through and through, as anyone who knew him would testify, but even he felt the need to sit back and _listen_ every now and then. It was nice to hear their voices, and the somewhat uplifted tone that they held today. It was certainly a welcome change from the dull helplessness that had plagued his friends' voices only yesterday afternoon. He was getting sick of feeling so morose all the time, though he knew that he should probably have gotten used to it at this point.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even register that his friends' voices had quietened down and then muted altogether until he opened his eyes to see Feliks staring resolutely at something – or someone – behind him. Since his back was pressed up against the bars, he could imagine that it was one of the rebels. Stiffening a little, he turned and looked up, immediately feeling his stomach plunge downwards.

It wasn't the usual, smiling, short-haired Jhobrasian fighter who had informed them her name was Nelia, nor was it the young, dark-haired man called Kristian who took great interest in what Reycass was like. Matthias would have given anything for it to be Matthew swinging by again to update them on various sports results, or even the headstrong Daernic that had been the pirates' prisoner before, who seemed to enjoying bringing up the reversal of their situations. He would have given just about anything to not have the cold, sharp-eyed leader of the resistance standing outside the bars, but Matthias sadly didn't have much to give anymore.

The door swung open easily under the Yanish man's gloved touch, and Francis shuffled out of the way, trying not to look as cowed as he obviously felt as the man – Yao – marched right past him. For a single moment of blind confusion, Matthias wondered if one of the others had decided to join the resistance too – it wasn't impossible; he had seen Louise looking especially conflicted over the last two weeks, and he knew for a fact that some of Arthur's subordinates were very fond of their waspish boss. That thought died a swift and silent death the moment that Yao turned his cold gaze on Matthias. There was a moment where the surprised voices of his friends faltered, and then died down completely when they noted the stare-down currently happening between Matthias and the tall Yanish man.

"Up." Yao commanded, tone sharp and evidently not open for discussion on the matter. Matthias blinked at him, hoping that the fear he felt inside was well-hidden by his far more impassive expression. He noted that a heavily-armed woman with dark green eyes and brown hair – Daernic, judging by the rings of gold in her eyes – had entered the cell behind Yao. She was frowning at the group of them warningly, but overall presented a much less hostile image than the resistance's enigmatic leader. He let his eyes rest on her for a moment as he debated his next words, and then turned to face Yao again.

"May I ask why?" he asked, tone cordial but laced with a harsh coldness. "I'm not about to come and join your merry band of murderers." Yao's eyes narrowed a little, but the edges of his mouth curved upwards ever so slightly.

"I was under no illusion that you sought to do so." Yao said. "No, Mr Køhler, I wish to have a conversation with you." Matthias quirked an eyebrow.

"A conversation?" He echoed sceptically. "I fail to see why we can't have a conversation right here and now." Yao's gaze cut momentarily to the others in the cell, all of whom were silent and listening carefully, eyes trained on the encounter occurring before them.

"That was poorly phrased; I wish to have a conversation with you in private." Matthias tilted his head upwards, transforming the jolt of nerves in his stomach into fuel for a sharp grin.

"A conversation about what, exactly? I'm sure that your cause is _very_ noble, but I personally have no interest in it." Yao smiled a little.

"Once again, Mr Køhler, I am not seeking to recruit you to our cause, though your gifts would be very welcomed here. Your friends have already proven themselves valuable assets." Matthias leant forwards a little.

"How are our friends doing? If I may ask? We haven't received much news on them since being locked in here." Yao considered him.

"They may come up in conversation, though only if you would deign to begin one with me." Yao said dryly. Matthias could hear the exasperation in his voice, but had to respect the man's restraint. It would have been infinitely easier for Yao to have some of his rebels drag Matthias out of the cell by his hair, and yet he was choosing to instead request an audience with him. For the first time since his friends had started to filter through the doors, Matthias felt like a sliver of control had returned to his hands.

Knowing what the rebels said of Yao's cunning and intelligence, though, that was likely his ploy. He shoved down the temptation to ask further about their friends, knowing that he was unlikely to get any answers as long as he was in the cell. A part of him ached to know what Yao wished to discuss with him, but his stubbornness overruled it easily.

"I'd rather not, thanks." He said simply, leaning back and folding his arms. "I've made myself fairly clear on where I stand concerning light conversation with you, I think."

The rebels had tried to coax them into talking for weeks now, undoubtedly in an attempt to either make them join their ranks or find something to use as leverage against them. They had all stayed silent and harsh in the face of the questioning, however. Matthias wasn't about to negotiate with the people who had locked them away to rot for over 2 months now.

Yao tilted his head to the side. "You seek emancipation, do you not?" Matthias stiffened, but didn't make eye contact.

"I think that I've made that clear, but I don't want that if it means being forced into your service."

Yao laughed. "Oh, please. I have far better things to bargain your servitude for." Matthias barely had time to register the cold shock that travelled down his spine before Yao had continued, speaking two words that froze him more effectively than any blizzard could have done.

"Ivaana Petersen." He said mildly, smile stretching wider as he observed the effect that it had on Matthias. "About 14 years old right now, given that her birthday's in Novymbir, she was born originally in the far northern city of Belknad, Fynkn. She was only three years old when the Expansion happened, and it wiped out her entire family. She was part of the Hrinnskél tribal community." Yao levelled a gaze at Matthias, who doubted that he had ever been so still in his whole life. "Shortly after the Expansion occurred, one of her parents' friends got into contact with a couple that she knew who lived on Rywan with one child, plenty of space and enough love to take in a Fynknian orphan who had been smuggled off-world, something which can, under Union law, attract a prison sentence of up to 20 years."

Yao was cold as he smiled slightly. "Care to finish the story for me, Mr Køhler?" Matthias wasn't sure if he was breathing or not as he quietly shook his head.

"Don't delude yourself into thinking that I'm going to try to use something as weak as your personal freedom for leverage when I have far more interesting things that we can discuss together."

Matthias swallowed. "Noted."

"Would you mind if we had that chat now? I can promise that you'll hear about your friends, and perhaps a note or two on emancipation while we're at it."

Matthias stared at Yao for a long moment, wondering what part of hell this man had crawled out of. Objectively speaking, he knew that he shouldn't let himself be intimidated. The rebellion were trying to help Fynknian and Daernic and Syhvvanian people. He wouldn't have dared, right?

Looking at his face now, Matthias wasn't so sure.

"Fine." He murmured, trying to push some of his harsh bluster back into his voice. "but you'd better make it quick." Yao nodded, the coldness vanishing from his face as easily as it had come.

"Very good. Come." Matthias wasn't happy to be ordered around like a disobedient pet, but he felt deeply shaken. In the back of his mind, he could hear Ivaana's voice giggling over some petty thing or another, could almost feel the familiar press of her fingers digging into his arm as she attempted to get his attention to show him something. He shuddered, but followed Yao and the Daernic woman outside the cell nonetheless. The brunette woman fell into step behind him in the hallway, with Yao leading their mismatched band of three.

Though his light clothing had served him well inside his prison, it made him feel vulnerable out here, where both of his escorts were dressed from head to toe in combat-ready fabrics, with weapons hanging from their belts. He hunched his shoulders in a little, in an unconscious attempt to make his large form at least somewhat smaller. He caught himself as he did it, and forced his shoulders out again. It was an old habit from his childhood. He had long been told by his classmates that he was too tall, too broad, too bulky, until –

 _"I like you how you are, Matthi! It's better to be big and strong than small and twiggy like me."_

 _"You aren't twiggy, Ivaana, you're just…"_

 _"Growing?"_

 _"Yeah, growing. There's nothing wrong with that either."_

 _"If you say so, Matthi."_

He cursed internally. He hadn't spent much time letting his thoughts linger on his adoptive sister in the last few months, and yet a bare mention of her name was enough to have her childish, joyous voice clamouring in the back of his head again.

He missed her, so much.

Matthias was so swept up in his thoughts of vulnerability and innocent little sisters that he almost forgot to acknowledge the outside world. Almost.

It had been months since Matthias had felt the sun on his skin properly, and stepping outside the confines of the low, brick cell-block sent him stumbling back inside from the sheer brightness. He clamped his eyes shut, even as the rest of him hungered to step briefly back into the scorching warmth that had so briefly brushed over his skin before his eyes had caught up.

"Ahh," Yao said, "My mistake. I forgot about the glare. Take a moment to adjust."

"I was doing that already." Matthias grumbled, slowly cracking his eyes open and widening them as soon as he no longer felt like his corneas were being slow-cooked. He cautiously stepped outside of the shade again, and felt his muscles unravel as the sun warmed his body, even though the sting of the red dirt beneath his feet was a little too sharp to be welcome.

"I understand that you must enjoy the sun after so long in captivity." Yao said, his voice breaking Matthias from his pleased reverie, "but I feel that you will not be quite so enchanted when your feet are coated from heel to toe in blisters later. Believe me, the ground can get deceivingly hot." Sighing at being hurried along again but recognising that the mild pain on the soles of his feet would only grow worse, he continued to follow Yao through the camp.

Though he had seen the rebel camp before, there was something rather different about seeing it during the day. When they'd first arrived, it had been dusk, and early dawn the morning that they had almost been executed. Even though it had been daylight when they were moved from the container to their current prison, they had been blindfolded, and as such, hadn't been able to see much of anything. But now, with his eyesight unhindered and curiosity peaked, Matthias took in the space around him.

Walled tents in shades of khaki, olive and tan were scattered everywhere, the seemingly order-less arrangement punctuated occasionally with a table of munitions parts, or a row of sand-skimmers waiting to be put to use in Nyma's sand-dune deserts. The place was teeming with activity, with people of all ages, species and races scurrying about with varying degrees of urgency. He could see some people relaxing and laughing alongside each other; others were bolting from place to place holding papers or weapons or tablets. The sheer frantic energy that infected the air was enough to make Matthias' heart race. It reminded him distinctly of the old trading grounds in the Krios District, though the duties being performed here had a much less criminal nature than could be expected of south-eastern Reycass.

He twisted his head around, eager to observe more of the infamous rebellion that held dealt the Union so many harsh blows, but was intercepted by the Daernic woman following him, who roughly jabbed a pistol into his back.

"Keep moving, you aren't here to gawk." Matthias felt irritation simmer in his gut, but noted the harsh set of her face and conceded, turning back to face the front and follow Yao. The sheer number of people who nodded deferentially, raised a hand in greeting or called out happily was astounding. The guy seemed to be a pretty popular leader after all. But then, he probably didn't go around threatening these peoples' families, so that was understandable.

One man moved to speak to Yao, but upon noting Matthias and the Daernic woman, drew back and stepped out of the way. Yao threw the man a grin. "We'll speak later, Mohammed." The man nodded, casting Matthias a curious but not openly aggressive look, and moved away.

It was a relief to finally step back into the shade. Yao hadn't been wrong when he had said that the ground got deceivingly hot, and despite how nice it had felt in the beginning, the sun's heat had begun to make his neck and shoulders burn unpleasantly.

He glanced around at his news surroundings. The tent was long, with numerous rooms travelling off it's length.

"This is where we conduct a lot of our…negotiations and other important endeavours that require more discretion."

Matthias blinked in surprise, shuddering a little when he saw the rather obvious door to a cell. It looked to be connected to an actual building, rather than a tent.

"You aren't just upgrading my accommodation from a group suite to a single, are you?" he asked faintly, eyes trained on the door. Yao followed his gaze and chuckled lowly, though the sound wasn't comforting in the slightest.

"Oh, no, no, that cell is…otherwise occupied. We wouldn't throw you in there." As he spoke, Yao approached the door, which had a barred window set into it's wooden surface, and rapped on the glass. Matthias didn't bother approaching, not entirely sure that he wanted to see what was inside. Yao must have roused some sort of reaction, though, because the Yanish man grinned widely and stepped away, even as Matthias heard faint yelling from behind the door.

"Just ignore that. Zev rather enjoys complaining." Yao said breezily as he moved past Matthias to a door down the end of the hallway, holding open the cloth so that Matthias and the Daernic woman could walk inside.

This room was much less unsettling. The tent was made of dark green fabric, tied down solidly to the ground to give the illusion of solid walls, even as a light wind buffeted them from outside. The ground, simple packed dirt had been evened out a great deal. A large, dark wood desk stood in the rough centre of the room, with a black chair seated behind in and a thin wool mat covering the ground below. There were two chairs poised in front of the desk. The desk itself held only a few files and papers on it's surface, and what appeared to be a map of some sort of mountainous region. Behind the desk were a few low filing cabinets and old, seemingly discarded equipment. The woman gestured for Matthias to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

The whole set-up made him feel so absurdly like a misbehaving child that he couldn't hold back a snort. Rather than respond with anger, Yao grinned, a much more open and pleasant expression than he had had all day.

"Ahh, I know, right? This layout always makes me feel like a disinterested old school principal, ready to lecture students about bullying." Matthias let his amusement die down a little, but he felt himself relax infinitesimally. It was good to be reminded that even a cold, calculating menace like this Yao had a humorous side to him. Matthias fixed him with an expectant look.

"Well? After all that you went through to get me in here, you had better have something good to say for it." Yao arched a brow, and leaned back in his chair as the Daernic woman took a seat at the side of the room.

"I prefer to ease myself into difficult conversations." He said simply as he straightened up again, clasping his gloved hands together. "First things first, the woman who accompanied us here is Vice General Octavia Papadopoulos." Matthias looked over at her, and she bowed her head.

"A pleasure." She said, looking distinctly like she meant the opposite. Matthias suppressed a grin.

"Now, if I recall so correctly, your main concerns were the statuses of your friends and the subject of your emancipation." Yao continued. "I shall start with the former, as the latter ties in somewhat to the original reason I sought to speak with you." He paused for a moment, as if trying to formulate his next words in his head. The Yanish man shrugged.

"What can I say? Your friends are all very talented, and so far have taken well to their respective roles in the resistance."

"I want specifics." Matthias demanded. Yao didn't seem angry, or even perturbed, by his interruption, instead merely tipping his head in concession and continuing.

"Alfred works well with everyone that I place him with. He's been spending most of his time being introduced to life here by Matthew, which is an arrangement that he seems to be very happy about. He shows particular promise in shooting and reconnaissance. Due to the fact that he was one of the first to leave, he has garnered more trust than some of the others, and as a result, I don't think that it is normal to see him alone."

"Is he happy?" Matthias asked. Yao paused, staring at his face as if measuring his reaction.

"He seems to be, though he would be the authority on that particular matter." Matthias nodded, satisfied enough by the answer, and gestured for Yao to continue.

"Gilbert is already a remarkable gunsmith and mechanic, so he's become quite in-demand for our engineers and munitions experts. Matthew has also been looking out for him over the last few weeks. His main problem seems to be in making eye contact with our Garvich fighters." Matthias tensed.

"Is that an issue?" he snapped. Yao raised an eyebrow.

"Not even remotely. He's been gathering a little more confidence with each day, though. He also seems to get along well with others. He seems happy, if a little jumpy around the aforementioned Garvich." Yao sighed, and went on.

"Tori has had a focus placed on restoring as much of her memory as possible, and strengthening her gifts. She is royalty now, and she has much to learn about her own planet and people; any essential knowledge that the crash on Aralos robbed her of. She's spent a lot of time with Lukas and Emilia, since they are our resident authorities on the subject. She seems to have taken to her new role with gusto. Her identity remains unknown to the wider rebellion; she is known as Tori Lurisanke here."

"And what about Arthur and Mei and Leon?" Yao seemed a little surprised that Matthias worried after them too, but responded anyway.

"Arthur is as talented as he is good at being uncooperative, but the medicine we devised is working well so far. He's stronger, and has already proven his value in missions. Mei and Leon spend as much time with him as they are able, and they, too, seem well. They seem to be happy as long as they are near their captain, anyway."

Yao paused for a moment, looking like he was racking his brain for anything he had missed.

"Oh yes! Your friend Ivan has befriended many of our weapons designers. Something about getting a specially-weighted metal pipe?" Yao shook his head in bemusement even as Matthias grinned. "Anyway, he seems perfectly content, and none the wiser concerning either Lukas or Tori." Yao looked at Matthias. "Is there anyone else that you're overtly concerned about?"

"I don't think so." Matthias murmured as he leant his head back a little, trying to memorise the information to pass onto his friends. He closed briefly as he ran over the words in his head.

He felt the mood of the room shift abruptly – the lightness in his chest at hearing that his friends were well vanished, replaced by a clenching sensation that made his stomach lock up in anticipation.

"Octavia, if you would leave us alone." Matthias opened his eyes in time to see the Vice-General nod respectfully to Yao, shoot one last cautious glance in Matthias' direction and step out the door. Yao waited a long moment, surveying Matthias before standing from his place, bracing his hands on the desk.

"Mr Køhler, I will be frank. You can help me, and I can help you, but only if you are willing to make a few small sacrifices."

"Sacrifices?" Matthias repeated, alarm in his voice as he stood from his chair, Yao's previous subtle threats about Ivaana ringing in the back of his mind.

"Only small ones," Yao said reassuringly, obviously picking up on what Matthias was thinking of, "For us to mutually benefit from this, I require your cooperation, some of your time, and a willingness on your part to give up your fairly safe position in the cell with your friends." Matthias blinked. While he was relieved that his family wasn't going to get involved, he still had no idea what was going on.

"And if I were to make those sacrifices…" Matthias began cautiously, "what would I expect in return?" Yao was silent for a moment, before he raised his head, looking uncertain even as he spoke his next words.

"Freedom for yourself and all of your friends." The Yanish man said simply, brown eyes boring into Matthias' own blue. "That is what I offer, in exchange for a fairly big favour from you."

Matthias felt his heart stutter in his chest. Freedom? For him and all of his friends? His excited mind had already begun to contemplate it, and he hurriedly reeled himself in and painted a blank slate across his face again. "At what cost? You've made it very clear that you don't like or trust us, so why would you offer us freedom now?"

Yao broke their eye contact and gazed to the right side of the tent, looking thoughtful. "I have succumbed to the wishes of one of my young fighters, who made a few too many good points and had just enough logical counters to my objections." Matthias blinked, completely bewildered once more. Could this guy not just answer a question straight up?

"For the record," Matthias turned his attention back to Yao as the man spoke again, "when I say that I require some of your time, I refer to several months, not a few days or weeks." Matthias felt his stomach drop. A few months? Doing _what_ exactly?

He asked as much, and Yao smiled ruefully, as if he couldn't quite believe that he was in this position. Matthias felt resentment flare in his stomach, but forced himself to maintain a mask of composure and curiosity.

"You are an excellent fighter, Mr Køhler. You would not have garnered the reputation that you hold if you were not. You display remarkable observational skills, a high level of intelligence, a capacity to keep secrets and lie like a spy professionally trained. You are truly the definition of what it means to be a career criminal. You have spent years training and protecting your younger and less experienced friends. You were raised in rural Rywan, so you know how to survive off only what the land provides, to a degree. You are a fighter by every definition, and possess remarkable skill by any judgement." Yao looked directly at him again.

"But, until yesterday morning, I still would not have considered you as a potential candidate for this task. In my mind, there were a thousand others better and more trustworthy. However, it was the information of your illegal little sister that finally convinced me to try my hand at getting you onboard. It was little Ivaana that made up my mind about whether or not I should risk it. Do you know why?"

Matthias stayed silent, but inclined his head in a gesture to continue. Yao sighed, raking back a few loose black locks of hair with his gloved hand.

"She had a little difficulty, when she first came to your family, speaking Rywanese, didn't she?" Matthias nodded, watching the man keenly. "So, in order to ease her into things, you, and your parents, all decided to help her using her own language. I decided to risk this on you, Mr Køhler, because you speak fluent Fynknian, a skill that not many others can boast."

Matthias shifted uncomfortably. "Okay, listen, before you get into what made you consider me for this, why don't you explain exactly what _this_ is?" Yao looked at him, before dropping his restless hand from his hair and nodding.

"Fair point." Yao sat back down, and Matthias mirrored him. "You've met Lukas Bondevik, as I'm sure you'll recall." Matthias nodded.

"Yup. Cold guy. Not really much for conversation." Seeing the somewhat guarded look on Yao's face, he decided to push it a little. "Pretty face, though." Yao frowned, and Matthias didn't think he imagined the brief look of protectiveness that flashed across the Yanish man's face.

"…Anyway," Yao pushed on, throwing Matthias a disapproving look that actually cowed him a little, "He, unlike Tori, has spent years cultivating his gifts. He is a force to be reckoned with in battle, and has a brilliant mind to accompany it." Matthias raised an eyebrow.

"High praise." He commented. Yao made a face.

"Yes. Don't let him know I said so." Matthias bit back another amused snort. Yao sighed. "Recently, he has been pushing and pushing me to let him be more involved in the rebellion against the Union. I can more than understand his motive, after all, given what they have done to his family and planet, but he is still young, for all his talent, and though he has experienced many hardships, he is yet to fight in a true war." Matthias raised an eyebrow.

"Why not just say that he's too young to fight then?" Matthias asked. Yao's expression slumped with exhaustion.

"I did," he said mildly, looking vaguely irritated, as if he were recalling something rather vexing, "He waited until he had turned 19 to then say that he was old enough."

Matthias frowned, "When was that?"

"About three weeks ago. His persistence is something to be admired." Yao sighed. "Not to mention, there are accomplished fighters here that are younger than him, so pulling the whole age card wouldn't have worked anyway." Matthias hummed, waiting for Yao to continue.

"However…he makes good points. As much as I want to keep his family from coming to any more harm, he is a remarkable fighter, and could easily turn the tide in any fight. But I couldn't in good conscience send him somewhere that his comrades would not offer him help or kindness, and nor would I feel comfortable sending him anywhere without some sort of protection, though he loathes the very idea." Yao paused, looking hesitant. "Not to mention…given the nature of his gifts, he isn't much help in a desert."

Matthias' mind ground to a halt as the pieces of what Yao was proposing began to come together in his head. The realisation hit him like a bullet train, and he saw Yao wince as he obviously gathered that Matthias knew his plan.

"You have to be fucking kidding me." Yao held up a hand to silence him, looking a little pained.

"It isn't ideal, but the one place where he might be able to make a real difference is also a place where he would by default be looked out for, if only by virtue of his ethnicity."

"You…you want me…to…"

Yao sighed, both sounding and looking like he wanted nothing more than to chug a bottle of lighter fluid. "I want you to go to Fynkn with Lukas Bondevik, and keep him safe until I can be sure that he is capable enough to fight in an active warzone by himself."

"Are you bullshitting me?"

"I wish I was, but no. You are capable of keeping him safe, and may just have enough stubbornness to rival his own. You speak fluent Fynknian, and you can keep your cool under pressure." Yao sighed, looking more and more suicidal with every second that dragged by.

"And if I do it?" Matthias asked, still feeling overwhelmed.

"If you do it, then I will set you and your friends free, as I stated earlier. These are my terms, so you can either accept or reject them." Yao stood again. "Lukas is currently occupied by a mission, but he and his teammates, if all goes well, should have returned home by the 19th of Jaune at the very latest. I would appreciate your answer by the end of the week, though, if you would be so kind."

Matthias gawked at him, only remembering after a very long moment to shut his mouth. "You're insane." He said, laughing a little. Yao tilted his head.

"Most likely." He said. "But do keep this in mind, Mr Køhler. Right now, you and your friends are little more than a waste of space and resources for us. If we cannot find a suitable use for you soon, we may be faced with no real option other than to get rid of you all. If you were to consider my offer, however, my patience might be extended." Yao said, tone ominous. "It's up to you." He clapped a hand on Matthias' shoulder. "Do think on it." Matthias had barely more than a second to register that he had just been faced with a legitimate threat before the woman from earlier – Octavia, appeared and took him by the arm, pistol in hand again, steering him decisively back towards the cell full of his friends.

It was official – the rebels were fucking crazy.

* * *

Octavia stowed her pistol back into its holster as she sent another questioning look at Yao.

"I mean no disrespect, General, but if even the boy thinks this plan is mad, what makes you think that it will succeed?"

Yao smiled wryly. "Octavia, you can express your doubts to me. I wont be offended, I promise." He saw the small flash of guilt cross her eyes before she could break eye contact, and he sighed. "How many times do I have to tell you? I hold you at fault for nothing concerning my trial. It was all our neighbour's doing." He glanced down the hall where the cell was. The angry yelling had long since progressed into pained screaming, and now fallen silent altogether. Yao pushed down the vicious satisfaction that it brought him.

"I know," Octavia sighed, "But I still feel guilty." Yao shook his head a little, but didn't bother continuing trying to convince her otherwise. He knew that she would come to accept everything that had happened in time, and he didn't wish to derail the process by being overly pushy on the topic.

"Do you know what the theory of familiarity is?" he asked. Octavia blinked, looking a little confused by the question.

"I don't, but I have heard of it." Yao smiled.

"It was a theory first posed by a Misori psychologist, and I personally feel that it has merit. Essentially, the greater that a person is acquainted with someone or something, the more familiar it becomes." Octavia nodded.

"That sounds about right." She agreed. Yao nodded.

"Well, this Misori psychologist extended this principle to people. Essentially, the more time that you spend around someone, the more familiar you become with them and their personality. They went on to pose the subsequent theory; the theory of acquaintance. The theory of acquaintance states that the more familiar a certain person or object is to someone, the more attached they will become to that thing. Of course, the theory is flawed, but I have found that the basic principle is true, especially when in regards to two people. Think about it; even if you start off hating someone, the longer you know them, the more you learn. Even if you don't like them, if they were to vanish, that sense of familiarity would be gone, and you would worry for them."

Octavia frowned. "So…you wager that the Køhler boy will become more fond of Lukas the more time they spend together?"

"Exactly. And, on a place like Fynkn, they would spend a lot of time together. Soldiers work in pairs there. As long as they stayed together, they would be around each other almost constantly."

"Yao, you can't hinge this whole mission on a set of psychological theorems…"

"I know. You think I am that misguided? I checked through Køhler's known work records. In the majority of cases wherein the target had more than one interested buyer, Køhler always preferred to give them off to the buyer not affiliated with the Union." Yao paused. "Octavia, his adoptive younger sister is from Fynkn. I somehow doubt that his family are frenetic Unionists, especially considering how gravely they are breaking the law by adopting young Ivaana. I am hoping that time on Fynkn; the site of his sister's tragic youth, and one of the places where Unionists get the most vicious, we can temper his dislike of the Union into a legitimate hatred."

Octavia was silent. "…That…is more reliable than the theories." She conceded. Yao nodded.

"Have you seen the way that he interacts with his friends?" he didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "He is their leader. They naturally gravitate towards him, and he holds considerably more sway in their group than they seem to even realise. If he were adamant about keeping information about Lukas and Emilia away from the Union, I feel like they would listen to him. Not to mention, if he should accept our offer, we will attempt to also slowly recruit his friends while he is gone. If that doesn't succeed…"

Yao hesitated. He didn't like to show his ruthless streak too often. It was one of the less pleasant but more useful gifts that Wuhan Ma – the man who had tortured him into near insanity on the SS Arbiter – had left him. But it was coming in useful more often than not nowadays.

"If that doesn't succeed, if…if my plan should go awry…well, would anyone really be that surprised if we did end up just killing them?" Octavia made a small, surprised noise. "It isn't that I want to. I would much rather use and utilise raw talent like theirs, but I will do what I must for this movement. It is an unpleasant last-resort I know, but it is the one we have."

Octavia was quiet for a moment. "I agree." Yao looked over at her. Her face was lifted somewhat, looking at once apprehensive and hopeful. "I pray that your plan does work, but if not, I will help you in any endeavour you require. I…I have faith that this may work, Yao."

Yao smiled. "I'm very glad to hear it."

* * *

 **Ivaana Petersen: Greenland**

 **Why hello there, plotline that I came up with half-way through writing Hunting the Stars. It's so good that I finally get to start you. (I legit can't wait guys. I'm so fuckinggg keen)**

 **Also, I feel like it's only fair to tell you guys that almost the entire section about Matthias and Yao, in addition to the end part with Octavia, was written in a wild, long stretch from about 1am to 3:30am a few mornings ago. I have achieved peak crazy writer status.**


	8. Free-Falling

**Aaaannnnd I'm back! I have to say, I love having you guys on Tumblr. I was delighted to see the reception to the little excerpts that I posted. Thank you all so much for your lovely comments!**

 **RECAP (And even as I write this I'm opening the chapter to check):**  
 **\- The mysterious woman tracked down Lovino to the convenience store that he works at, and bowed, freaking him out completely.**  
 **\- Matthias turned 23 (yay!) and got threatened by Yao into talking to him. As it turns out, Matthias' family adopted a little girl - Ivaana - who got smuggled off Fynkn, which is a criminal offence.**  
 **\- Yao proposed a deal to Matthias; in exchange for travelling to Fynkn to fight with and protect Lukas, he would set him and his friends free. Yao plans that, while they are on the planet, they will subtly try to recruit the group of prisoners**

 **Fair warning, we get into a little bit of world-building for Rela in this chapter. The lore is all important! Again, the current year is 4512CC**

* * *

 _Szwicza District,  
Bibesti, Rela  
6th Jaune_

"I'm telling you, Feli, I know what I saw. That girl somehow knows who I am."

Feliciano frowned, feeling very frightened by the mere idea of their identities being known, but also wondering if his brother was overreacting a little.

"Are you certa-"

"YES!" Lovino bellowed, rounding on Feliciano with a blistering rage that caught him off guard. "If you ask me that one more _fucking_ time I swear I'll rip your tongue out." Feliciano blinked, stunned. His brother had always had a temper – it was a Vargas family trait, but it had almost never been directed towards him. Feliciano swallowed. He could see regret cross his brother's face the moment that the words were out of his mouth, but Lovino didn't apologise.

"Sorry." Feliciano murmured. "I just…I don't get why that particular gesture is so worrying." Lovino sighed, and Feliciano leant back slightly, anticipating another outburst, but his older brother simply slumped and sat on the couch, burying his face in his hands.

"That gesture – a closed fist with a pinkie extended – it's a traditional Relusian gesture. They used it in deference to all royalty or nobility. When they greeted their own royalty, though, they would get down on the floor to bow. The straight-backed bow is reserved for foreign monarchs. That whole gesture is basically exactly what they used to use for Fynknian, Daernic and Syhvvanian royalty, back when Rela was also a Free Court." Lovino slid his hands to under his chin, fixing Feliciano with a look that made him look absolutely miserable.

"I'm sorry for yelling, okay, but that woman knows who I am and I really think that our only course of action is to leave, as soon as possible."

"But…" Feliciano fumbled, "why leave? She might know who you are, and me too by extension, but she's just one person. Bibesti has over 30 million people living in it. What are the chances that she'll actually track us down?" Lovino sighed, expression still hard and saddened.

"She's not normal. Her clothes told me that much." Lovino muttered. Feliciano blinked in confusion. His brother had given him as many details as he could about the woman's appearance. According to Lovino, the woman was maybe around Feliciano's own height – maybe about 5'8'' or so – and had a very lean figure that indicated a high level of athleticism. She was typically Relusian – light olive skin, somewhat slanted eyes and dark hair. Her hair, he'd said, was very long, and had been braided back. Her eyes were very dark too – grey or black, his brother had approximated. But Lovino hadn't mentioned anything about her clothing.

"What do you mean?" Feliciano asked. Lovino sighed.

"You know that Rela used to be one of the Free Courts, right?"

"…Yeah, what of it?"

"Well, just like our planet and Daerna and Fynkn, Rela was ruled by a monarchy, which, much like us, had gifts that allowed them to do supernatural things." Lovino sighed. "Now, Rela transitioned into a constitutional monarchy in the late 3800s, and later transferred all governing power to the government. The royal family, or what was left of it, became normal civilians, just like everyone else."

Feliciano nodded. "Yeah…it was the…uhh…Ahkmeri?"

"Close. The Akhmetov family. Now, they were still respected a lot, and were richer than other people, but had no political power to speak of. In the 4210s, the family decided to continue teaching their descendants how to use their gifts. The royal gifts get weaker the further a person is distanced from the actual royal family, but it takes a while for them to completely disappear. Since the Akhmetov family and all their relatives were no longer as closely connected to Rela as an entity, their gifts weakened much slower, and got spread around a lot more."

Feliciano, nodded, still failing to understand what his brother was getting at. Lovino sighed.

"Do you know what the gifts of the Relusian royal family were?"

"Uhh…" Feliciano trailed off, grinning sheepishly. Lovino rolled his eyes.

"Their gifts were called the _Jel_ and the _Faza_. The _Jel_ allowed them to manipulate wind and the air. The _Faza_ allowed them to pass through solid objects. There's a reason that people used to refer to Rela as the 'Rock of the Winds'. Both of the royalty's gifts, in their minds, were connected to air. One let them control it, and the other let them _become_ it." Lovino paused for a moment.

"Kind of like how people think our abilities are both connected to energy?" Feliciano asked. "Because we harness both heat and kinetic energy?" Lovino nodded.

"Exactly. Now, though they weren't royal anymore, members of the Akhmetov family still wanted to serve the planet. So, they founded the Tapsiris Jel; the Order of the Wind. Those who still have the gifts work and train there. They're basically a glorified police force nowadays. People here call them the Zephyrak. They stick out ridiculously; they all wear these fitted black uniforms designed to make sneaking around easier, with silver insignias on them." Lovino swallowed. "The woman staring at me had that uniform on."

Feliciano was silent, staring at his brother as he struggled to realise what that meant.

"So, this woman could-"

"She could travel around soundlessly with the help of the air, and walk through the strongest of walls." Lovino shook his head. "If the Zephyrak were less honourable, I swear that every bank vault on Rela would be empty by now."

"Oh…uhh…that's bad." Feliciano said, finally understanding Lovino's fear and apprehension. Lovino raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. It's bad. She might want nothing from us, but if she thinks that we're a threat in any way to Rela…well, she'd probably hunt us down and kill us."

"Worse than a normal assassin." Feliciano murmured.

"Yeah, worse than a normal assassin." Lovino sighed.

* * *

 _Ta Cïtadel twrali Tapsiris Jel  
(Citadel for the Order of the Wind)  
Bibesti, Rela,  
6th Jaune_

The woman pulled the loose brown cloak that she had used to conceal her uniform from her body. It had been pure foolishness for her to have first confronted Prince Lovino while wearing the mark of her ancestry. He was likely intelligent, and, had he been on Rela for a long time now, probably knew what the silver insignia on the left breast meant.

She hung the cloak from one of the small hooks in the entryway to the Citadel, before proceeding through to the main dome. The Citadel had been her home since her very earliest memories, but the interior of the dome still left her breathless. It was vast, built of sandstone and rough-hewn, brown marble. The floor was tiled in traditional Relusian styles, an array of red, orange and black tiles that jumped and twisted across the smooth surface.

The dome itself sat above a solid strip of glass that let natural light into the main hall. The ceiling was decorated in similar styles of tiling, but with pale blues and dark greens and white marble inlaid into it's surface. The walls of the circular room were decorated with numerous niches and coves holding different artefacts and books and traditional rugs. Dotted along the walls was the occasional door, each leading to a different part of the wider building.

She strode across the tiled floor, grateful for her black leather slippers; they had been specially made to allow her to move as quietly as possible, and not a single footstep echoed across the room. She cast a questioning glance around her. Had Mother Aimira lost her touch?

No sooner had the thought come to mind than she felt a sharp pain across the backs of her legs. She yelped and jumped away, spinning to face a small, haggard woman with silver hair and a long cane.

"Mother Aimira!" she exclaimed. "It's been so long!"

"Long enough for you to lose your touch, it seems." Mother Aimira barked. "Don't think that you can scurry along here, making such noise, and not be punished!" she winced. She had though that she was being quiet, but then, Mother Aimira had always had especially good ears.

"I apologise, Mother Aimira." She said, quickly bowing. "I will aim to rectify my shortcomings." Mother Aimira simply grumbled. She waited a moment, wondering if Mother Aimira had forgotten the _Quttiqtaw_ – their traditional welcoming for anyone who had been travelling. Mother Aimira sighed a moment later, however, and gently knocked her cane against both of her shoulders before planting it back on the ground,

"Inkar Elnari Akhmetov, I extend my welcome to you from your travels." Inkar bowed her head again.

"Thank you, Mother Aimira."

"Well, girl? Did you find anything of interest while you were out?"

Inkar's mind flashed to the handsome Syhvvanian prince. "A few." Mother Aimira smiled slightly.

"I will hear of them later. For now, go and meet your brothers and sisters." Inkar smiled.

"I will, thank you, Mother."

Inkar turned and marched towards one of the doors, taking care to be even quieter than before. Her mind briefly recalled the vibrant amber of Lovino Vargas' eyes.

It really was a shame.

* * *

 _Meridide Neighbourhood, Priiko City,  
North-Eastern Reycass,  
7th Jaune_

Lukas had only been on Reycass for about three days now, but he had already formulated an opinion of it; it fucking sucked. He voiced as much to Tino as the pair of them trudged down the wet and rapidly darkening streets. Sunset came earlier here than it did most other places; it was only 3 in the afternoon, and the yet the sky was already painted in a shade of polluted orange, attributable both to sunset _and_ the ridiculous amounts of smog in the air.

Tino laughed. "It's really not that bad. Just because you Fynknians are used to having beautiful, sprawling rural landscapes, doesn't mean we all are." Lukas rolled his eyes, but grinned faintly. Tino continued. "What exactly is it that you hate so much?"

Lukas shrugged. To be completely truthful, he wasn't sure. The rampant amounts of black-market dealing and criminal activity that could be seen at a moment's glance down to the street would have been unsettling, but Lukas had already seen that and more, and at a much younger age than he was now. The criminal activity didn't bother him – _couldn't_ bother him – especially given that he was travelling with famous pirates and bounty hunters in tow.

The planet itself wasn't exactly what he was used to; Fynkn was a sprawling mass of forests, glaciers, lakes, mountains and steppes, whilst Reycass was urbanised almost to a fault. The pollution around here was staggering, and Lukas had done little more than roll his eyes upon learning that Reycausian people held the highest rates of pulmonary diseases and disorders in the whole galaxy.

The weather wasn't exactly a delight to be in either. It had rained heavily ever since they had handed on the 4th. Some areas of downtown Priiko had already been flooded, and Ayshe was on the lookout to find if Meridide was one of the neighbourhoods at risk. So far, it seemed like they would avoid the worst of the flooding.

Lukas shrugged, drawing the collar of his coat up around his ears. "I'm not sure. This place is just off-putting." Tino hummed noncommittedly.

"Maybe. It could just be your nerves bleeding into everything else. I know that's happened to me before. You're so stressed about everything that go bad that you can't think about the good, and that limited mindset extends into everything about the mission. I personally, don't mind it here."

"I could do with company that doesn't flinch away from me every time I walk into a room." Tino frowned sympathetically.

"Hey, hey, _I_ don't do that."

"I know, but still." Lukas grumbled. Most of the crew were no problem; Ayshe was constantly bringing up his gifts and ways that they could apply them in the mission set to occur soon, and Tino obviously, didn't think they were unusual or off-putting in any way. Even the harsh pirate Captain, Arthur Kirkland, seemed to have nothing but sheer curiosity. He asked Lukas relentless questions about his powers, and Lukas had found that he actually enjoyed the Pyndaphian man's company quite a lot. The feeling seemed to be mutual, judging by the casual manner in which Arthur had taken to sitting near him.

Arthur's underlings had been cautious at first but, like their captain, their view of him had quickly switched to curious, and they also asked him a few questions every now and then. The girl, Mei, seemed to especially enjoy watching him make ice sculptures in the shapes of animals, which he always gifted to her. The boy, Leon, was more withdrawn, but also seemed to find his gifts more interesting than off-putting.

The albino gunsmith, Gilbert, displayed a general apathy towards Lukas in all circumstances, which wasn't exactly the worst way he had been treated before. He wasn't sure whether his presence unsettled the man or not, and didn't want to violate his privacy to find out for certain. Alfred, as kind as he was, seemed to be unsure of the more unnatural aspect of Lukas' royal blood. He tried very hard not to show it, but Lukas using his gifts put the man ill at ease. Lukas tried to not do it around him, just as Alfred tried to hide how he felt about someone controlling water and reading minds. They walked on metaphorical glass around each other, which Lukas regretted. Matthew was one of his closest friends, and Alfred was his brother, but he wasn't going to force the guy to get along well with him.

Lukas sighed. "So, when are we set to enter Xi Lan Ey, again?"

"Well, that's up to Ayshe, but I think that our first entry should be late tomorrow or early on the 9th. Those are the two rough times where security will be the lowest, and we'd need to do it by the 10th at the very latest if we're to get off this planet before the 17th."

Lukas nodded. Their mission was especially perilous because it involved entering the intelligence compound twice. Their first entry was intended to be so subtle that not even a single security camera picked up on their presence. They were supposed to plant devices that could record all the footage from the security cameras and copy information from the centre's huge database without being detected, and then, about five days later, once the devices would have definitely collected the information they needed, they would go back in, retrieve them, and return to Nyma.

It was a tricky operation; trying to get into an extremely secure Union intelligence centre without being seen by anyone or anything would be near impossible, but they were going to try anyway. Tino looked over at him as they finally arrived in front of the tall residential building that held one of the resistance's many small safehouses. He and Tino had been tasked with fetching a few more groceries, and the bags weighed heavily in his hands.

"You nervous?" Tino asked. Lukas hesitated. It would be so easy to lie and say that he wasn't concerned about failure, but he knew that Tino wouldn't think less of him for telling the truth.

"Yes." He said. "It feels like there are far too many things that can go wrong." Tino nodded.

"I feel the same." He threw him a grin. "Don't get too worked up, though. And just remember; I'll have your back the whole time." Lukas nodded. They had all been spilt into pairs and assigned a different way of getting into the facility and job to do when they were inside. Lukas was with Tino, which was a huge relief in itself. He had been more than a little worried that Ayshe would pair him up with Alfred or Gilbert.

"Final briefing is tonight, right?" Lukas inquired as they rode the lift upwards. Tino nodded.

"Yup. Let's hope that it's all good news."

* * *

"Okay, I have a bit of bad news." Ayshe said.

Lukas sighed deeply. _Of course she does_.

"The entrance that Lukas and Tino were originally going to be entering through begun maintenance this morning. It would be far too risky to get inside using it, so I've been working out alternate routes for you two."

"Are there any suitable ones?" Tino asked. Ayshe nodded, wincing a little.

"Yes, I hope that neither of you is criminally unfit, though." Lukas shrugged, and Tino grinned lightly. Looking a little relieved, Ayshe turned back to the blueprint of the facility spread out on the table. "Alright, everyone gather 'round. We're going to be starting the operation tomorrow at 1800 hours, so this will be the final whole-group briefing until we leave."

Arthur and his subordinates wandered over to the table from where they'd been sitting together, and Alfred also drifted over from the kitchen, a piece of toast in his hand.

They all gazed down at the blueprints. The Xi Lan Ey Intelligence Centre sat about 20 miles outside of the city, and was a huge building with five above-ground floors and three subterranean levels. The building was hexagonal in shape, and the whole compound was surrounded by a thick park of trees and plants. The foliage was designed to make the building hard to see from the outside, and from the air. The outsides of the intelligence centre were painted a pale green, and most of the bricks were covered in ivy or other crawling plants. The roof had been designed to resemble the foliage around it.

There were no major security measures outside the actual facility, but the layers of authorisation inside the building were mind-blowing, as was the number of security cameras. Given that their aim was to remain completely undetected, this made things significantly harder.

"Alright." Ayshe said. "As you already know, we're going with the buddy system for this operation. I plan to stagger our respective entries into the building by about ten minutes each. Leon and I are Team A. We will enter first, through the south-eastern end of the building, at approximately 1800 hours, should all go to plan. Exactly ten minutes later, Team B – Gilbert and Mei – will enter the building through the north-eastern side. Remember, you two have the advantage of entering the building through a blind spot in the security detail, so you need to remember how to get to and from the entrance. You'll be leading the rest of us through there later." Gilbert and Mei exchanged a look and nodded. They had been surprised to be paired together, but Lukas knew that they would work well together.

"Now, Team C, Lukas and Tino. Since you can no longer enter through the north-eastern entrance, we'll be dropping you off with Gilbert and Mei at the north-eastern end, making careful observation of the blind spot and surrounding security cameras, and then, you two will climb up to the roof and enter from there."

Ayshe smiled briefly. "I know it's going to be very difficult to climb up, but it should ease your passage to the next part of your task. You can enter the ventilation shafts directly from the roof, though you'll have to do a bit of shimmying. It's cliché, I know, but it's the only effective way into the room you're targeting." Tino grinned. "I've found that they don't do regular maintenance on their ventilation shafts, so hopefully, if you need to dislodge or remove a screen, they won't notice. You'll set off at exactly 1820, and you _need_ to be up the wall and inside by 1840. I understand that that's a tough thing to ask, but I have faith you can pull it off." Lukas and Tino exchanged a look. Hopefully.

"And, of course, Team D – Alfred and Arthur – you two will enter from the western side and seek out the entrance to the basement. You two also have a rough task, since there are security cameras planted all along that wall. They only have a certain horizontal range, however, so you will need to observe and map out any blind spots or moments which might allow you to enter the building. You need to begin your entry at about 1830, and get inside as soon as possible." The pair nodded.

"Once we are all inside the building," Ayshe held up her wrist, on which was a thin band with a small face on it and a button on the side. It looked like a small watch. "We will all indicate so with a single click. Remember; one click to indicate that you've completed part of your mission, two clicks is a signal for help or that you may soon be compromised, three is to indicate that your cover is blown and you are running." Lukas nodded. They had all been given the same small devices. The screen had eight little status bars, which recorded the signals sent out.

They had all been assigned a letter and number; the letter based on their team, and the number based on which of them was older. It was a pretty simple system; Ayshe was A1, Leon was A2, Gilbert was B1, Mei was B2, Tino was C1, Lukas himself was C2, Arthur was D1, and Alfred had been assigned D2. They had practiced using them earlier that day, with the record of the signals still visible on the screen, in the form of small circles. Lukas gave it a brief once-over.

A1: O-OO-O-OOO  
A2: OOO-OO-O-O

B1: OO-O-O-OOO  
B2: OO-OOO-O-O

C1: O-O-OOO-OO  
C2: OOO-O-OO-O

D1: OO-OOO-OO-O  
D2: O-OOO-OO-O

It was a simple enough system; the small watch let them all keep track of how everyone was doing, and didn't make any noise either, altering them via a small, soundless vibration. Lukas rather liked them, actually, and they would be useful when they couldn't communicate via commlinks.

"Now," Ayshe spoke up again, and Lukas hurriedly turned his attention back to her, "Compared to the rest of this, getting in will be the easy part. Hopefully, by now, you all know what your specific roles are on this mission, but let's do a refresher for briefing's sake." She turned to Leon. "Leon, what is our role while we are inside the facility?"

Leon straightened up. "We are entering the facility via a south-eastern entrance, which will take us to the security sector of the facility. Our role is, while remaining completely out of sight, to make our way to the surveillance rooms and hardwire a visual and audio recording device to the mainframe of the security cameras in order to collect information about people entering and exiting the facility. Once we have done this and set up the recording via a remote console, we will travel towards the north-eastern exit, where we will hopefully meet Gilbert and Mei, and leave the facility." Ayshe smiled.

"Very good. You listened well." Leon flushed a little at the praise as she moved on. "Gilbert, Mei, what is your task?" they exchanged a glance, before Gilbert cleared his throat and spoke up.

"We're going to enter the facility through the north-eastern side, and wait until we have received confirmation from everyone that they have entered the building. When we have done this, we are to find the electronic sector of the facility, and redirect power from the manual firewall programs to the security cameras. We then need to hide until we receive confirmation from Teams C and D that they have completed their tasks, and then direct the power back to the firewalls and make our way back to the blind spot to escort everyone out."

Ayshe nodded. "Do keep in mind, your role will be difficult; the electronics sector is vital to the integrity of the rest of the facility, so there will be heightened security." They both nodded.

"Now," she continued, "Tino, Lukas, what is your task?"

Tino spoke up before Lukas had the chance. "We are going to enter via the north-eastern side like Gilbert and Mei. We will climb up the side of the building to the roof, and enter via the ventilation ducts. Once we reach the fourth floor, we will wait for confirmation from Gilbert and Mei that the firewalls have been weakened, and then enter the file and blueprint archives. We will install the 'crackdown' program created by our coders to break through the weaker firewall and plant a drive intended to copy the entirety of their file database. Once we have done this and received the signal from Alfred and Arthur that their task is done, we will also signal Gilbert and Mei, find our way towards the blind spot where they entered, and exit via the north-eastern side with the rest of you." Ayshe nodded.

"Indeed you will. Alfred, Arthur, what will you two do?"

Arthur straightened up a little, cracking his knuckles absently, "We are going to enter through the western side, travel to the second of the two subterranean levels and locate their Confined Index server, which holds all known information, surveillance information and profiles on any people that the Union has deemed to be of interest. Like Lukas and Tino, we'll plant a drive intended to copy the whole database, immediately signal Gilbert and Mei when we've accomplished that, make our way back up and find the exit on the north-eastern side." Ayshe nodded.

"Okay, so you all know what you are to do when you get inside. Good. We will all be wearing Union uniforms, so at a glance, we should be fine, but under no circumstances should you get yourself into a situation where you are under close scrutiny. We will leave here at 1630 tomorrow, and we should be in position by 1730." She paused. "I know that this is very dangerous, but if we act cautiously and keep our cool, we have a higher chance of succeeding."

They all nodded, tension lying thick among them. Lukas was glad that Ayshe didn't try to fool them into thinking that it would automatically go well. She was blunt, realistic. He liked that about her. They all dispersed not long after that, each off to distract themselves from what might happen tomorrow.

* * *

Alfred hesitated only briefly before he gently knocked on Arthur's door. The pirate looked up, frown softening a little when he saw that it was Alfred who had come calling.

"Come in," Arthur said, looking a little bemused but not irritated that Alfred had come to talk to him. Alfred grinned, shifting a little so that the package he had stowed under his jacket wasn't quite so obvious as he sat on the edge of Arthur's bed.

The place that they were staying was decent in size, but had obviously been made to fit as many people inside as possible. Arthur's room was about as wide as a king bed, and maybe twice as long. A rickety single bed had been crammed as far into one corner as it possibly could be, with a small desk and chair set up at the end of it. The rest of the room was narrow enough that it was almost impossible to shimmy past when someone was sitting at the desk. Arthur obviously remembered this, and stood from the desk, tucking the chair in and moving to sit near the head of the bed. Smiling sheepishly, Alfred followed him.

"Sorry for interrupting." he murmured. Arthur shook his head, carding a hand through his pale grey hair.

"I was just looking over the blueprints again. I don't want to compromise the mission simply because we took a wrong turn." Alfred grinned.

"Yeah, I feel like that wouldn't go over well with Ayshe." He chuckled, picking at a small bit of lint on the wool blanket. Arthur cocked his head slightly.

"So, what brings you to my _very_ humble abode?" the pirate asked, gesturing to the incredibly small space. Alfred grinned, even as his foot bounced up and down nervously. He hoped that Arthur didn't completely hate the gift that he had gotten him.

He had only bought it the day before, when he, Mei and Leon had gone out to explore downtown Priiko a little. It was very different to the Krios District, but just familiar enough to assuage some of the homesickness that Alfred had been feeling. They had wandered through lines of shops, while keeping careful watch of the pickpockets threading through the crowd and subtle vigil over their own wallets. He hadn't been able to find Arthur anything, and had started to get legitimately distressed about it. Mei and Leon had been insistent that he need not get anything for the pirate, but that was beside the point.

They had wandered around for hours while Mei rattled off a list of things that she thought Arthur might like, until Alfred had felt his feet slowing next to the stall of a gunsmith. He had seen gunsmiths at work before, but as his gaze had raked over the rows of guns, many of which had antique exteriors but modern functions, his brain had murmured 'Hey, Arthur might like something like this…'

He had been quick to ask Mei if Arthur liked guns, and her response had buoyed him immensely.

"Oh he loves them. He had a pair of gorgeous obsidian-laid revolvers before, but the resistance took them and they're refusing to give them back. He misses them a ton." Her eyes had lit up as she realised his plan, and had grinned encouragingly and tapped the glass of one case in particular. "He loves guns like this, and he _especially_ loves it when his guns have a bit of flair." Alfred had eagerly looked through the whole cabinet, and found his gaze being continually drawn towards one set in particular. After getting Mei and even Leon to officially approve them, he'd bought them and hidden them away in his things, waiting for an opportunity to gift them to the pirate.

"Well, as I recall. It was your birthday quite a few weeks ago," Alfred grinned, ignoring the small sigh from Arthur.

"It was, and I told you, Alfred, you didn't have to get me anything." Alfred shrugged.

"Yeah, I heard you, but what's the point of a birthday if you don't get any gifts?"

"Aging?" Arthur asked. Alfred snorted a little.

"All right, true, but I wanted to get you something anyway!" Arthur blinked at him as if he were some sort of oddity, but his smile widened a little.

"You won't be dissuaded, will you?" he sighed, though he didn't look too beat up about it. Alfred grinned.

"Nope!" he reached into the inside of his coat and pulled out the mahogany box that Arthur's gift had come in. "Hope you like it. I think I just about annoyed Mei and Leon to death with all my questions about what you would want." Arthur chuckled softly, and Alfred tried to keep his face from going too red as Arthur took the box from him, brushing their fingers together as he did so.

"I think, given that they're used to me by now, you can't have irritated them _that_ much." Arthur said lightly, looking at the box curiously. Alfred bit his lip nervously as the pirate unlatched the front and opened it. Arthur's eyes widened as he pulled the two guns from the velvet-lined box. It was a pair of short-barrelled shotguns, with antique-style exteriors made of polished wood and gold accents. The interior mechanisms were all modern and high-functioning, of course, but it was the aesthetic that mattered. The real eye-catcher of the guns, however, was the slender, Yanish-style dragons inlaid into the outside edges with jade. Arthur slowly ran his fingers over the jade dragons, lingering on the snarling jaws that paused about halfway along the barrel.

"Uhh, if you don't like them, I can always find something else…" Alfred trailed off as Arthur shifted his attention from the guns to him. "Uhh…" Arthur carefully placed the guns back into their case and set it aside, before he reached out and seized Alfred's hands, grinning widely.

"I love them, Alfred. Thank you so much." Alfred immediately relaxed at his words.

"You…oh! You do! Oh, great! I was worried, you know, since you don't really like getting presents, according to Mei and Leon…" he trailed off again, not wanting to start ranting embarrassingly. Arthur was smiling warmly at him.

"You're very sweet, Alfred," Arthur said, bright smile softening into something different, but no less happy or kind, "I can't think of many people who would go to so much effort." Alfred blushed deeply, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Ah, well, you know…it's nothing, really…" he said, blushing even more deeply as he saw Arthur's mouth curve in amusement. He had no idea what to say to Arthur next, and was almost relieved when Gilbert stuck his head in the door to inform them that Ayshe wanted them to get to bed soon. The albino shot them a wicked grin as he left, which only exacerbated Alfred's blush.

He stood, smiling bashfully at Arthur. "Well, uhh, I guess I should, uh, sleep, um…yeah." Arthur was still smiling at him, but he stood as well, carefully relocating the gun box from his bed to the floor, making sure it was latched shut.

"Yes, I suppose we both should." Arthur said. Alfred nodded, a few too many times for it be normal, and turned to go. "Alfred." He paused, turning back to face Arthur as the pirate approached him.

Before he could react, Arthur stepped closer, leant up, and kissed the corner of Alfred's mouth briefly before withdrawing again.

Well, if Alfred was red before, he was on the verge of death right now.

"I really do love them, thank you." Arthur said sincerely. Alfred just nodded, trying desperately to keep any embarrassing noises from escaping his mouth. "Goodnight."

"Yeah…goodnight." He squeaked out in response, voice a good two octaves higher than it should be as he moved out of the doorway. He saw Arthur's grin widen before he closed the door. Alfred stood there in shock for a moment, blinking in shock. Once what had just happened finally started to sink in properly, he felt a dumb, delighted grin spread across his face as he moved back to his own room.

That had gone far better than he had expected.


	9. Into the Lion's Den

**Back once more! This chapter is the biggest of the story so far! It clocks in at exactly 9101 words! I feel like it's worth mentioning that the average chapter word count for CTM is higher than the one for HTS. HTS had an average of 5315 words per chapter, while CTM, at the posting of this chapter, anyway, has an average of 6036 words per chapter! Yay for improvement!**

 **Note: if you guys want to know what my internal soundtrack was while writing this chapter, I would recommend listening to 'Death by Glamour at 0.666 speed' on youtube. I found it on Tumblr and for some reason, I thought it was good heist music ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ (It isn't but whatever)**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- The girl pursuing Lovino and Feliciano is Inkar Akhmetov, a girl belonging to the family that was formerly Relusian royalty. She has intangibility, and the ability to control air.**  
 **\- The planning for the heist at Xi Lan Ey went underway, and boy is it complicated (if you've forgotten pls re-read the section, I'm too lazy to recap it.)**  
 **\- Alfred gifted Arthur two antique-style guns for his birthday, which Arthur loved.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **I don't know if this counts and it's a mild spoiler, but just to be certain, there is a brief scene in here where an underage character kisses a legal adult. It's both consensual and necessary (for reasons). The age gap is about 7 years. I don't know if this would trigger anyone, but I want to be sure.**  
 **In addition to that, one character experiences a mild anxiety attack related to a phobia, but it is resolved quickly.**

 **QUICK REMINDER:**  
 **A1- Ayshe, A2- Leon, B1- Gilbert, B2- Mei, C1- Tino, C2- Lukas, D1- Arthur, D2- Alfred**  
 **One click (O) = Part of the mission accomplished**  
 **Two clicks (OO) = I'm in a bit of trouble**  
 **Three clicks (OOO) = I'm gonna GTFO, sayonara motherfuckers**

 **Also: obscene levels of USUK. It's COMING.**

* * *

 _Xi Lan Ey Intelligence Centre,_  
 _Outside Priiko City, Reycass,_  
 _8th Jaune_

 ** _1748 HRS_**

Lukas fidgeted as he and Tino crouched in the shrubbery of the woods surrounding the Xi Lan Ey Intelligence Centre. The plant life was thicker than Lukas had anticipated it being, and couldn't help but fear that the rustling of the branches would attract attention. Objectively speaking, he knew that there were no guards that patrolled these woods, but the fear was an old and persistent one. That wasn't to say that he was keen to go inside the centre, but he certainly wouldn't mind being out of this noisy and scratchy foliage.

Tino turned to him, brow furrowed ever so slightly in concentration. "You got everything?" he murmured, voice only barely audible. Though he had already done a personal inventory check twice before, he immediately set to checking, if only to have something to occupy his restless fingers.

He had dressed in a Unionist-style uniform, an oppressive thing made of stiff grey fabric. The jacket was double-breasted and held shut with gold fabric buttons, accented by a straight collar buttoned shut on the side. The pants were more fitted and straight-cut, transitioning smoothly into lace-up, black leather boots that came about halfway up his shins. His hands were, for now, ensconced in formal black gloves, and his hair was concealed under a military cap. He had been getting used to having his hair be it's natural colour on Nyma, but since displaying his ethnicity here would mean immediate discovery and capture, he had dyed it black and combed it neatly to sit under his stiff grey cap. Tino, given how infamous he had become, had also had to disguise his appearance a little. His normally bright blond hair was light brown for the time being, and a pair of useless glasses sat on the end of his nose. He was dressed in the same thing as Lukas.

He forced his attention back to himself. He was wearing a large, loose fabric coat over his uniform, hoping to not get it dirty or ruined by climbing up the side of the building. Underneath the grey uniform jacket, he wore a simple black singlet, and had a small knife strapped to his upper right arm, just in case.

In terms of weaponry, he was well-stocked. Lukas had a small, full waterskin strapped around his waist; due to the style of the uniform jackets, which flared out a little at the bottom, it was almost too easy to hide. Ayshe had warned that using his _Vesi_ should only occur in an absolute emergency. Lukas prayed that he didn't need to use the water. He had a pair of sharp knives up each sleeve, strapped to his forearms, and also had a pair of brass knuckles concealed near his wrist. A backup disk drive was concealed in his shoe, as was an array of tools like a skeleton key, all-purpose key-card and a drive that could upload viruses to force doors open. He had a small flask of water hidden inside his uniform jacket, in addition to a small handgun with some spare ammo.

Lukas sucked in a breath. He was already sweating with nerves, and the operation hadn't even started yet. He felt a pressure on his arm, and turned to see Tino smiling comfortingly at him.

"Stay calm," he murmured, "we begin soon." Lukas nodded, fixing his gaze at the thin, flat strip of concrete that he and Tino would need to scale in less than 20 minutes. It was thick with vines and ivy, but Ayshe had provided them both with devices that would temporarily fuse with the brick to help them climb. It was stashed in the pocket of the fabric overcoat that Lukas wore over his uniform, as were some grippy climbing gloves and a small pair of climbing picks.

Lukas shivered as he checked the time on the small device locked around his wrist. 1756. They were set to begin soon. He glanced ahead of them, where the silvery colour of Gilbert's hair was only just visible in the thick darkness that filled the space around them. For the first time, Lukas blessed Reycass' early sunsets. If they had been in Lukas' birthplace of Oslaholm during the summer, night would have fallen only for a few hours each night. Lukas brushed his fingers over the water pouch strapped to his waist, feeling the slight movement that travelled through the liquid with every small way he adjusted his position.

Fixing his gaze on the white brick exterior of the centre, he took a deep breath and prepared himself. His signaller vibrated slightly. He looked down. 1800 hours.

 _And so it begins._

* * *

 ** _1800 HRS_**

Ayshe nodded at her wrist as she checked the time, beckoning to Leon as she cautiously straightened up from where she had been hunched in the foliage and crept forwards. She could hear the slight shuffling of young Leon behind her as they moved cautiously through the woods. They had camped far closer to the centre than all of the others had, since they had to set the schedule right for the mission to go smoothly. People underestimated the power and structure of having a basic timeline to go by. If all went well, they should all meet up at the blind spot on the north-eastern side by 2000 hours at the absolute latest. All of her subordinates understood that, should they not be present at the blind spot by that time, they would be left behind.

It was vicious treatment, but necessary. The mission was of vital importance – they couldn't afford to lose the information they would pry from this facility. Ayshe reached behind her slowly to grab Leon and make him be still as she gazed up at the wall. Security cameras were dotted around the walls at random intervals, and she quickly memorised their positions as she and Leon crept as close to the tree line as they dared. They waited in silence. The movement patterns of these cameras was one of the few pieces of solid information that they had about the intricacies of Xi Lan Ey, so she knew roughly how much time they would have to reach the side. Arthur and Alfred would have far more trouble than they would.

Of the two cameras that they were in range of, one swivelled to the side, pointing away from them. Ayshe waited, breathless, as the other slowly began to move in the opposite direction as well, even as the other slowly began to move back towards them.

"Now," she murmured, tugging Leon behind her as they silently bolted to the wall, pressing themselves up against the stone, where the cameras wouldn't be able to see them. They stood, motionless, for a moment as their hearts pounded, before Ayshe slid her hand into her pocket and withdrew the small skeleton key from her pocket. The name was somewhat deceiving, given that the device wasn't a key at all. It was a small, silvery cube, with one side dominated by a dark screen which analysed the shape of the keyhole, and the silver, ridged end opposite that, which rearranged itself to the shape dictated by the screen.

She pressed the black screen up to the keyhole for about ten seconds, withdrawing it when she felt the cube heat up a little. The other side clicked and whirred, parts shifting and compressing to form a peculiarly-shaped key. She slid it into the lock and twisted it, relief surging through her as the door clicked and swung open. She pocketed the skeleton key and slipped inside, Leon right on her heels. Ayshe closed the door carefully, and relocked it via the small latch on this side. She quickly surveyed their surroundings. They had entered the facility via a small maintenance room, which seemed to be filled with old pieces of equipment, dud electronic drives, spare radio parts and fraying cords and wires. She and Leon quickly shucked the camouflage robes which had kept them from sticking out in the woods, and she quickly unlocked the door which led to the rest of the facility. Ayshe raised her wrist and examined the small face of her signaller. 1808. Not bad. She quickly clicked the button on the side, signalling that she and Leon were inside, before motioning for him to do the same and then beckoning to the Yanish boy to join her by the door.

* * *

 ** _1808 HRS_**

Gilbert shifted a little as he felt the device clasped to his wrist vibrate slightly, blinking down at it as he saw Mei do the same in his peripheral vision. The little signal records had changed a little;

 _A1: O  
A2: O _

Ayshe and Leon were inside. Sighing a little, he shuffled on his feet, glancing back a little to where he could see Lukas and Tino almost completely concealed by the branches. He started a little when Mei gently touched his arm, tapping her device. He glanced at the time. 1810. It was their turn. He slowly straightened up, Mei doing the same, as they wove between the branches and bushes to the side of the brick building. They had been lucky to be assigned the north-eastern side. The blind spot was the safest place for them in the whole facility, and Gilbert didn't exactly misunderstand why he and Mei had been assigned it.

Of everyone here, Gilbert had been part of the resistance for the least amount of time. It was only natural that Ayshe would have reservations about him that didn't extend to everyone else. Mei was the youngest of the group, and though she was certainly capable, she had the least practical experience. Their job was based far more about subtlety than it was high-stakes sneaking like everyone else was. Normally, Gilbert would have felt indignant about not being trusted with a more important task, but in this case, he didn't mind so much.

They darted from the tree-line to the brick wall, even though it was unnecessary, and Gilbert withdrew one of the skeleton keys that Ayshe had distributed to them all, double-checking the room on the condensed map he had stowed in his pocket, before pressing it to the side of a closed window high on the wall. Though these skeleton keys were normally used for locks, it was also possible to use them to pry windows open. He watched as the malleable side of the key shifted into a very thin, metallic panel, and he switched it around, sliding and jimmying the thin end into the place where the windowpane met the wall. A small click reached his ears, and Mei reached up, pressing her gloved hands to the glass and sliding the window soundlessly open, checking inside carefully to ensure that the room was deserted before they attempted to enter.

Gilbert nodded to himself, stowing the skeleton key away as he clasped his hands together and bent down a little, an invitation for Mei. She lightly stepped onto his hand and hoisted herself up into the windowsill and leant down again, holding out her hand. He reached up and grabbed her hand, bracing his feet on the wall and grabbing a small, outlying stone as she helped him scramble up and inside. He slid down to the ground inside, much less gracefully than she had done, and quickly closed the window behind them, though he didn't lock it. They would need to get out quickly and quietly once they had all completed their respective tasks. They both quickly clicked their signallers and settled down a little, waiting for the others.

Mei had pulled her own copy of the floorplans from her pocket and was studying it. Gilbert sighed a little and straightened his uniform. Since their friends were still to enter the building, they couldn't redirect power from the firewalls into the cameras until everyone else was inside. Gilbert leant his head back against the wall, and began to wait.

* * *

 ** _1815 HRS_**

Lukas looked down at his signaller as it vibrated again.

 _A1: O  
A2: O  
B1: O  
B2: O_

Gilbert and Mei had obviously succeeded in getting inside as well. He quickly pulled off the thick, formal gloves which he had been wearing and pulled on the climbing globes, also withdrawing his climbing picks and fuser and stowing them on his belt so he could reach them quickly. Tino did the same, as they silently watched the clock, waiting for it to tick over to 1820. They had to make a five-storey climb in less than ten minutes, and even though they were both very fit, it was unlikely to be easy.

Lukas drummed his fingers against his leg as he surveyed the wall they were about to climb, trying to note the areas where the vines were thinner, and what would be an easier climbing path. Tino cursed under his breath and stamped one foot on the ground twice. Lukas glanced at him curiously. The sniper shook his head a little.

"I am not looking forward to this." He muttered. Lukas smiled, ever so slightly.

"And you think I am?" he breathed back. Tino chuckled quietly, pulling his own gloves on and ensuring that his pockets were all firmly closed.

"Let's go." Lukas checked the time as they approached the wall. 1819. By the time they reached the wall, it would be time for them to start climbing. Lukas swallowed nervously glancing from side to side through the thick branches as the white brick building loomed before them. The building was about 22 metres tall, meaning that he and Tino would have to climb up about 2.2 metres or more every minute to get to the top in time for Arthur and Alfred to enter. He exchanged one last look with Tino, pulling his climbing picks from his belt as the clock ticked over to 1820.

Tino moved first, quickly burying his pick into the thick mass of vines on the outside of the building, checking that they held before he stepped up and began to clamber upwards. Lukas shifted a little further to the right, to give him more room, and did the same. He didn't enjoy the feeling of climbing up the vines; their surfaces were a little too smooth and slippery, and didn't stick to the side as much as Lukas would have liked. Nonetheless, though he dragged himself upwards. They had a schedule to stick to, and Lukas was determined for this mission to go well.

He glanced at his signaller as he hauled himself just past the bottom of the windowsills of the second floor. 1824. Panic flooded through his veins. There was no way that they were going to make it to the top before 1830. Flattening his panic, Lukas shoved his heavy limbs into gear, picking up the pace until he had drawn level with Tino, who obviously had a lot more experience with climbing than Lukas did.

"Lukas." Tino's voice was quiet, but just audible. "Safety is more important than haste, alright? You do not want to fall from a height like this." Lukas slowed a little, nodding even as he continued to move. Even though Tino was right, Lukas knew that the sniper didn't want to be late either. He tried his best to keep pace with Tino, but couldn't make himself climb faster when he saw the sniper draw ahead of himself. Lukas forced his attention away from their rapidly diminishing time, instead focusing on pulling his body up the completely vertical face of the facility.

He stumbled only briefly, when a deceivingly strong-looking vine gave way under his hands, but he caught himself quickly, suppressing the yelp pf surprise that had almost left his throat. Pausing for a moment, he drew in a deep breath, glancing down at the more than 16 metres between himself and the ground, and forced his attention back to his task.

The vines were a lot thinner around the top of the building, but Tino had already clambered over the edge when Lukas started to struggle to find decent places to dig his picks in, and simply leant over the edge, grabbed his forearms and hauled him up onto the roof beside him. The pair took a minute to breath in and out sharply, before they remembered themselves and quickly clicked their signallers to indicate that they had reached the top. Scrambling to their feet, Lukas and Tino both ditched their loose overcoats, climbing picks, grip gloves and fusers by the edge of the roof and darted towards the open top of a ventilation shaft.

* * *

 ** _1835 HRS_**

Arthur and Alfred were already well into plotting their dash from the treeline to the wall by the time their signallers vibrated for the third time that night. Arthur pursed his lips, glad that Lukas and Tino had made it up, and had miraculously done so within their allotted time limit, as well, but he was simultaneously focused on how on earth he and Alfred were meant to get to the wall. The gap between the ranges of the security cameras was very brief – only a few seconds, which made sense, given that the basement windows they were meant to enter through were right across from them. They had arrived at their position earlier than the others, and been mapping out the camera's movement patterns for a while now.

"We'll have to go one at a time." Arthur muttered. "The camera on the left, when it swivels to face left, you need to sprint to the wall. I'll wait for the next rotation." Alfred blinked at him.

"But…Artie-"

"Just do it." Arthur said, ignoring the bundle of warmth that unfurled through his stomach at the sound of the nickname 'Artie'. "I can run pretty fast, anyway. Keep your eyes on the cameras. Remember, keep right to the middle. The blind spot is only very narrow." Alfred nodded, training his eyes on the cameras' movements. Arthur watched them too, moving to rest his hand on Alfred's forearm as he saw them moving to face in opposite directions. He pushed him gently, and Alfred darted to his feet, slipping across the stretch of green and pressing himself up to the wall faster than Arthur would have anticipated was possible. He shuffled slightly, raising himself from a squat into a crouch, ready for the cameras to move away again. He could see Alfred fiddling with the lock, undoubtedly using the skeleton key. The doorway was the one place that the cameras couldn't detect, but it only had enough room for one, so Arthur had to wait until Alfred had unlocked the door and gone inside to make his own run across.

Alfred got the door open and swung it open, carefully looking around inside. _Good, know your surroundings_. He turned to Arthur and nodded. The coast was clear. Arthur glanced at the cameras, training his sights on them. He saw them painstakingly slide sideways, watching as the small strip that constituted a blind spot widened.

He shot upwards and across like a cheetah, darting through the door and colliding with Alfred's warm, solid chest in his haste.

"Oof. Nice running." Alfred said as Arthur extricated himself and clicked his signaller. "I didn't know you could move so fast." Arthur shot him a grin.

"I was a sprinter in high school." He said by way of explanation. Alfred grinned, clicking his own signaller.

"That makes sense." Arthur smiled a little, then inclined his head towards the door.

"Shall we?"

* * *

 ** _1837 HRS_**

Everyone was inside. Gilbert and Mei picked themselves up, quickly looking over their uniforms before silently cracking the door open and checking that the coast was clear. Gilbert ushered Mei out first before following silently and closing the door. He drew a small knife from his sleeve and left the smallest of scuffs on the white paint of the door, near the handle. Most of the doors were practically identical, so it made sense to leave a small mark to distinguish this door from all others.

The hallway that the room opened into was free of security cameras, thankfully, likely due to the fact that they were mostly store-rooms and break areas. Gilbert and Mei slunk along the hallway, adjusting their caps to ensure that they were tilted as far over their faces as was acceptable before proceeding into the next hallway; this one was dotted with security cameras staring down at them. They kept walking, professional and straight-backed, down the hall and into another room. They skirted around the outside of it, both hoping and praying that no-one would pick up on how small and young Mei was, before finally tumbling into another empty hallway.

They wound though the hallways and little off-shooting rooms until they finally came across a glass door through to a completely abandoned room. Gilbert pulled out the all-purpose key-card that Ayshe had given him and held it over the scanner. He sighed in relief as the door buzzed and swung open, and he and Mei slipped inside.

The room was full of huge servers that looked like they should be hooked up to computers, with wires and plugs everywhere. Mei darted down the servers to the left, while Gilbert moved to the right. Gilbert raked his eyes along the labels on the servers, until he located the one connected to the manual firewall systems. They were the strongest firewalls in the Galaxy, but they required a large amount of electricity to operate properly. By diverting some of that power, they could weaken the server's ability to recognise threats – by which, of course, he meant their magical little drives. He heard Mei call out from the other side.

"I found the camera server!" she exclaimed. Gilbert nodded, and examined the screen on the server. Each server had huge, direct power cables connected to it that came from the floor. If they could divert the cables to the cameras, then they could easily weaken the firewall. They could just unplug them, because the facility had a failsafe system that would set off an alarm if any of the cables were unconnected for more than two minutes, but there was no failsafe to account for power being diverted from one server to another.

"The firewall server is over here." He called back, frowning at the thick cables before glancing back to where he could see Mei poking her head out into the aisle. The distance between the two servers was about eight metres or so. Thinking, he stood and crossed to the corner of the room, where he could see additional equipment stacked up in an orderly manner. He rifled through it and grinned when he found what he was looking for. A huge, industrial adaptor, which he could use to plug two of the huge cables into one server. He hauled it up and carried it back over to the firewall server. Mei frowned at the bulky piece of equipment momentarily before she realised what it was, and grinned.

Gilbert knelt down and studied the cables fuelling the firewall server. There were three of them, each about as thick as his thigh. Surely removing one would be enough? The firewall was already delicate, so removing a third of it's power source would undoubtedly make it slow down or work less effectively. He nodded to himself before ducking back to the corner to search through the pile again. The thick cables didn't stretch very far, but the facility stocked extender cables for that very reason. His grin only widened when he pulled one from the pile and darted back. There were so many cables lying on the ground that Gilbert doubted anyone would notice their little alteration for quite a while.

He hurriedly unplugged one of the three thick cables attached to the server and attached the extender cord, darting over to Mei. She pulled one of the cables on the camera server out, quickly plugging it, along with the other end of the extender cable, into the adaptor, and slamming the device back into the side of the server. They waited breathlessly. A light flicked on above the adaptor, indicating that it was working. Gilbert sagged with relief. Mei whooped quietly, grinning widely. They both clicked once on their signallers, indicating that they had disconnected some of the power from the firewall server. Their jubilant mood froze, however, when they heard footsteps approaching.

They scrambled to their feet, pressing their backs to the server. Mei looked around briefly, then turned to Gilbert.

"What's the time?" she murmured. Gilbert risked a glance at his signaller.

"1850." He whispered. Mei nodded.

"Some workers would be on their breaks by now." She breathed. "I have an idea. Do what I say."

She pressed her back to the server's surface and grabbed Gilbert, pulling him roughly so that he was standing right in front of her. Before he had time to ask her what was going on, she gripped his shoulders and jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Taken completely off guard, he shifted his arms to support her. She shimmied back a little until she was once again pressed against the server, and he understood what she was doing.

"Play along." She whispered, promptly grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him. It was by far one of the strangest things he had done, not least for the fact that Mei was only 15 years old, where he himself was 22, but he went along with it anyway. The footsteps grew louder, until, through the peripheral vision of his slitted eyes, he saw a tall figure in a dark uniform turn the corner and pause.

He heard a deep sigh. "Do you _mind?"_ Gilbert heard Mei yelp in surprise as they separated, and also jumped as though he had just been startled, very nearly dropping Mei but instead managing to dump her gracelessly on her feet. He whirled around, bringing to mind the most embarrassing moments of his life in an attempt to make his face go red. The person who had 'walked in on them' was a tall, straight-backed woman with light brown hair pulled into a tight braid, and dark eyes. Gilbert expected severe anger, but the woman didn't seem surprised; just exasperated.

"I understand that it is easy to become closely acquainted when working in close quarters as we do here," the woman said, pinching the bridge of her nose, "but why must all of you come to the server room? I'm sure that there are other nooks and crannies you can wedge yourselves into." Gilbert ducked his head, making himself the very image of embarrassed and flustered. Mei was hiding her flushed face in her hands. A good ploy, and it helped her to hide her age, as well.

The woman sighed. "Just get out." Gilbert and Mei both muttered quiet apologies as they verifiably _booked it_ out of the room, not slowing down until they were down another camera-less hallway. They paused and exchanged a glance. A laugh bubbled up in Gilbert's throat, and though he suppressed the sound, he couldn't stop the disbelieving grin that spread across his face.

"Well…that happened." Mei said, which he thought summed it up pretty well.

* * *

 ** _1858 HRS_**

Ayshe smiled as she and Leon surveyed the camera room. The number of screens was innumerable, as was the sheer number of desks and people seated at them. The pair of them had managed to avoid detection by security cameras so far, and hadn't attracted any attention within the camera room either.

Since the uniforms that they wore denoted that they were part of a maintenance crew, they were generally allowed everywhere, and, as Ayshe had discovered from extensive research before the mission had begun, the camera room malfunctioned a lot.

Leon walked over the main server, going over the main functions as they mumbled technobabble to one another to avoid suspicion. While Leon was fiddling with the monitor that all of the screens were hooked up to, Ayshe dropped into a crouch under the pretence of examining the wires, and shuffled sideways, until she was almost completely underneath an abandoned desk. Sliding forwards a little, she located one of the rogue, heavy-duty wires that the drive needed to be hooked up to. Angling her body so that the pocket with the drive in it was concealed from outside view, she quickly withdrew it from her pocket, connected it to the wire and waited a breathless moment for the light that indicated it was functional to switch on. She carefully taped over the light and slid it to the back of the bundle of wires under the desk, hiding it from plain view but not trying overtly hard to conceal it.

Ayshe slunk back out from under the desk and subtly shuffled back along the length of the wires to where Leon was now adjusting the resolution on the security cameras. She gently touched his arm and watched as he stood, flicking a switch likely for dramatic purposes, nodded to himself, and then followed her out the door.

They clicked their signallers simultaneously, and Ayshe threw him a smile, which he tentatively returned.

Their part in the mission was, for now, over.

* * *

 ** _1900 HRS_**

Lukas cursed, slowly reorienting himself. He and Tino had gotten the signal that the power from the firewall had been redirected by Mei and Gilbert, but he and Tino were still quite a ways away from the file archive room. To be more specific, they were both cramped, confused, and very much so still stuck in the ventilation system.

He pressed his hands against the cool metal of the duct he was currently trying to quietly shimmy through, trying to keep his feet elevated enough that the rubber didn't squeak along the metal, but also not so high that they brushed the ceiling. Not to mention the small metal ridges that they had to carefully navigate themselves over, lest they cause the structure to creak and groan ominously. Lukas sighed. He would almost rather be back climbing up the wall than here right now.

Lukas slid forward a little, pressing his hands against the sides to control his speed. His and Tino's goal was the fourth floor, where they would find a room containing a database filled with files, plans, reports and photos of great importance to the Union. They needed to plant a drive that would copy every last file from the database, and somehow get back to the south-eastern side where Gilbert and Mei had gotten inside.

The problem that they were currently facing was trying to find a way out of the vents so they could explore the fourth floor. The last thing that they wanted was to have to bust their way out of the vents; their mission was one more of stealth than it was haste. Lukas slid around a corner, glancing behind him to make sure that Tino was still following him, and shuffled further a little more, grateful when the slim shaft opened up into a wider compartment. Lukas shimmied up against the wall, drawing his knees to his chest. The compartment was tall enough that, seated on the ground, his head only just brushed the top. He saw Tino grin when he saw the larger space too, and the sniper slid in next to him, also folding his legs against his chest.

"Okay, do we have any idea where we are?" Lukas murmured, being as quiet as possible while still making his voice audible.

Tino frowned. "We're still on the fourth floor, thank god, and if I haven't gotten completely turned around, we should be getting close." The blond pulled a small device from his pocket that Lukas saw was a compass. Tino nodded decisively as he saw it. "Yup, we're on our way."

"We need to speed up." Lukas murmured. "Gilbert and Mei redirected the power more than ten minutes ago, and every minute we wait makes it more likely that someone will find their changes in the server room." Tino nodded.

"Yeah. Let's keep moving. Take the left up here." He murmured. Sighing, Lukas slid back onto his stomach and started to shuffle through the next duct. They continued moving, Lukas taking Tino's muttered directions as they moved slowly but silently.

He paused when he felt Tino's hand close around his ankle. Looking back inquisitively, he saw Tino jabbing his finger towards a thin metal screen that closed off another section.

"That should lead almost directly to the database room." Tino mumbled. "Can you peel the grate open?" Lukas shuffled back a little, and examined the grate. The edges were already disconnected from the side, likely due to age, and frowned. They couldn't rip the whole grate off – it would indicate clear tampering. But if they made it look like the grate had started to come free on it's own, there would be far less suspicion. As it was, it's state of mild disrepair was already working in their favour. Lukas felt for the cap of the waterskin strapped to his wrist and unscrewed it, commanding a small stream of the water to slide out and curl around his palm. He could feel Tino's curious eyes on him as he forced the water to slide between the grate and the side of the chute, and let it slowly but steadily work a gap between the two. When he was about sure that the grate would appear to have loosened from age, he carefully pushed the loose side of the grate.

The thin metal bent easily under his hand, and he sucked in a breath and forced himself under it. He felt the sharper edges of the metal bite into his neck a little, and withdrew a little before sliding his body completely past the grate, shuffling far enough up the chute that Tino also had room to move past it. As he watched Tino gently ease the bent side of the grate into place, he pressed an un-gloved hand to his neck. His fingers came away with a few drops of crimson sliding down their lengths. Frowning slightly, he lifted his uniform jacket with his clean hand and wiped the blood away on the singlet he wore underneath.

"You all right?" Tino asked, looking concerned. Lukas shrugged.

"Accidentally nicked myself on the sharp edge is all. I'll be fine."

They continued to creep forward until they reached a slatted grate in the side of the vent. Peering out carefully, Lukas grinned when he saw the database room that they had been looking for. The room was completely devoid of security cameras. It was one of the Union's mistakes. Though these rooms were high-security, the information on display in the database room was highly confidential, and much too important to risk letting some average security guard watching the cameras pick up. Outside the room was about three different layers of security, but inside, there was nothing. There was no-one in the room either. They had well and truly struck gold, but they had to move quickly.

Lukas accepted the screwdriver that Tino handed him, and made quick work of the grate, pulling the metal piece into the ducts and placing it carefully to the side before he began to lever himself out. He hung by his hands from the outside of the vent, well aware that landing loudly would draw attention from the guards likely stationed outside the room. Thinking quickly, he reached out and located their minds. There were two of them, both female, and he gently eased his power into their minds.

 _You can't hear a thing._ He gently encouraged them, sending a brief prayer to the old Fynknian saints he had been raised with as he dropped to the floor. He landed in such a way that the noise he made was minimal, but even that made him freeze up.

But no-one came, and the door remained firmly shut. The guards outside were calm, and giving off no indication that they had heard anything out of ordinary. Lukas redid the process as Tino shimmied out and also landed on the floor. The guards, once more, heard nothing. Tino grinned at Lukas, obviously aware that it was his abilities helping them keep their cover, before they both hurried over to the database screens. Their drive was a little more complicated to install than Ayshe and Leon's. As Tino bent down and began to sort through the wiring for an acceptable plug-in point, Lukas glanced down at his signaller.

 _A1: O-O  
A2: O-O  
B1: O-O  
B2: O-O  
C1: O  
C2: O  
D1: O  
D2: O_

Ayshe, Leon, Gilbert and Mei had completed the brunt of their missions already, which only made his anxiety rise. At the very least, he and Tino weren't lagging too badly; Arthur and Alfred were yet to attach their driver to the Confined Index server which held the profiles of everyone deemed 'of interest' by the Union. Lukas frowned. They had to go down, to the subterranean levels, which posed quite a danger, given that there were less exits, should they be found.

Tino tapped his leg, indicating that he had found a suitable port. Lukas ducked down next to him, forcing his attention to their task. Tino pulled out the drive they were meant to attach, while Lukas plugged in the small screen that would help them get through the firewall and copy the files.

He quickly tapped on the button that Ayshe had indicated to him during their briefing sessions, and waited impatiently as the machine worked to get through the tough firewall that protected the database. Relief surged through his system when a small notification, indicating that the firewall had been cleared, popped up on the screen. Gilbert and Mei had done their job well. Lukas sifted down the options, quickly setting up the drive and making sure that he had selected the 'copy and export all' option for the files in the database. He waited tensely as the progress bar on the screen slowly inched along, before a confirmation signal appeared. Nodding in satisfaction, he carefully stowed the drive away under the power servers. Due to the sheer amount of files to be copied, it would take about two days for the drive to have everything, which was part of why they had to come back to retrieve their equipment.

Tino stood, looking satisfied but also a little concerned.

"How do we get back up?" he murmured, frowning at the ventilation shaft. Lukas glanced over as well, before sighing.

"Ayshe can get pissed off at me for using the _Vesi_ later," he grumbled. He had technically only been given permission to use the water he had been given to get through the grates, but he was sure that she would live. He summoned the water from the container on his waist with one hand, and beckoned Tino with the other. Tino approached, looking at the water suspended in the air with curiosity. It was odd, to watch water gently shift and undulate in the air. Lukas commanded it to spilt into two and wrap around Tino's waist and legs. He tipped his head a little. "Sorry."

He commanded the water to rise, and admired Tino's restraint when the sniper let himself be carried upwards without a single sign of alarm or shock. He gently shoved Tino through the open grate and then released him, summoning the water back down to himself. He forced the water underneath his feet and then made it surge upwards and freeze, giving him a nice spire to ice to stand on top of as he clambered inside as quietly as possible and returned the water to the container. Tino was grinning as they both clicked their signallers.

"Nice job, Your Highness." Lukas elbowed him as Tino carefully put the grate back into place.

"Shut up, let's go." He huffed, fighting back a grin even as he said it. They had barely begun to shuffle down the vent when their signallers vibrated. Lukas glanced down at it, feeling his stomach turn over as he registered the number of clicks.

That wasn't good.

* * *

 ** _1913 HRS_**

 _Well, this isn't ideal_ , Arthur thought as he dropped his hand from his signaller, glaring at the two small dots next to both his and Alfred's labels that indicated they were in a spot of trouble.

He couldn't help but glare at the small thing as he slid further back into the shadows. By the looks of it, the others were all going fine.

 _A1: O-O_  
 _A2: O-O_  
 _B1: O-O_  
 _B2: O-O_  
 _C1: O-O_  
 _C2: O-O_  
 _D1: O-OO_  
 _D2: O-OO_

He and Alfred were the only ones who had sent out distress calls, and though he was glad that everyone else was operating smoothly, he couldn't help but be a little resentful. It just always had to be _him_ that got in trouble, didn't it? Arthur bit back a curse as another guard marched past the place where he and Alfred had just managed to squeeze in together to hide. He could hear Alfred's breathing, rapid and shallow, and knew that the blond was panicking.

Adjusting his position a little, Arthur placed his hand on Alfred's chest, immediately feeling the younger man seize it in his own hands.

"We'll be fine, okay? Just stay calm, Alfred. I need you to stay calm." He saw Alfred nod in the low light, and gently shifted the position of his hand in Alfred's so that they were holding hands. Alfred took several quiet but deep breaths, grip on Arthur tightening as he finally started to calm down a little.

"I'm sorry." Alfred whispered, ever so quietly. Arthur blinked, frowning in surprise as he saw Alfred look away in embarrassment.

"Whatever for?" Arthur asked gently, not extricating his hand even though Alfred had calmed down considerably.

"It's…um…the…uhh, the walls are too…" he drew in another deep breath, struggling to speak, but Arthur understood what he was trying to say.

"You're claustrophobic?" he whispered. Alfred gulped, and nodded.

"I'm normally not, but in really small spaces like this…yeah." Arthur felt his heart melt a little for the sweet boy in front of him who thought he had to apologise for being afraid, and squeezed his hand tighter.

"It's completely alright, Alfred." He murmured. "I understand. There's nothing wrong with being afraid." He had to wonder why it was only very small spaces that made Alfred react like this, especially given that he had been completely fine when they had been travelling through the narrow mountain passes on Nyma, but he put the thought aside. It could wait. Alfred relaxed a little.

"Really? You…you don't mind?" Arthur shook his head.

"Not at all." He considered his next words for a moment, before deciding that he trusted Alfred enough to tell him.

"I'm afraid of needles." He murmured. Alfred shifted slightly, and Arthur could just see his surprise.

"But…all of your injections…"

"I hate every last one." He murmured. "I used to have to get Mei and Leon to help me every week when I needed an injection, and Kabeeta has started giving me mild sedatives before my doses so I don't lock up in fear when she comes near me with the needle." Alfred stared at him. "My point is," Arthur murmured, "everyone is afraid of something. Don't feel weak because of it." Alfred nodded, squeezing Arthur's hand.

"Thank you." He whispered, and Arthur could almost _feel_ the gratitude in his voice. Arthur smiled a little.

"That's alright. Now, shall we think up our next move?" Alfred nodded.

They had been caught off guard by the sheer amount of people on the floor that their target was on, and had had to duck into smaller storerooms multiple times to avoid being detected. They were very close to the Confined Index database that they were searching for, but a large room close by seemed to be holding some sort of meeting, hence the larger number of people.

Arthur and Alfred murmured back and forth to one another for a few minutes, until they had a semblance of a plan that they felt might work.

Arthur pulled a bunch of papers with different coding mechanisms on them and slipped from their hiding place, sifting through them and mumbling in Pyndaphian to appear deep in thought. For perhaps the first time, he was grateful for the fact that the Union hired so many Pyndaphians, because he wasn't even spared a passing glance. He recalled something that one of his privateer friends had told him. _Sometimes, looking like you know what you're doing is more important than actually being able to do it._

That principle certainly proved accurate here, and as Alfred also slunk out, looking distinctly more professional and composed than he had earlier, and joined him, pointing out random parts of the paper and murmuring a few Pyndaphian phrases that Arthur had just drilled into his head, they attracted absolutely no attention from the people weaving through the hallway.

They slowly made their way closer and closer to the door into the Confined Index room, and Arthur ushered Alfred forward, murmuring for him to meet him in there. Alfred had just slipped past the door when someone grabbed Arthur by the arm. He tried his best not to freeze, quickly tapping out a further two signals on his signaller as he turned around. The person trying to get his attention was a short, slender man with dark hair and brown eyes. He was Misori, judging by his appearance, and looked a little nervous.

"Uhh, excuse me, sir," he asked in heavily accented Common Standard, "do you know how to get to the refectory?" Arthur blinked in surprise, but relaxed, and nodded, quickly giving directions based on what he remembered from their maps. The man looked very relieved. "Thank you, sir." He said, bowing deeply. "I am new here, is all." Arthur waved a hand dismissively.

"It's no trouble. Hurry on now." He said, emphasizing his Pyndaphian accent. The young man nodded, looking a little embarrassed as he scurried off. Breathing out in relief, Arthur hurried to the door where Alfred had paused to wait for him.

"Directions." He murmured when he was at the taller man's side. "He wanted fucking _directions_." Alfred grinned a little at that, and they made their way towards the door, with Arthur smoothly pulling his adjusted key-card from his pocket and swiping it at the door. It opened (blessedly) and they hurried down a dimly-lit hallway towards the database room.

The door at the end of the hallway opened up into a circular room with a bench that curved all the way around it's wall, with computers and other devices located at random intervals. The main attraction of the room, however, was the huge screen that dominated the centre of the wall. Alfred hurried over to the screen as Arthur installed the firewall-breaker and watched it work it's way through the tough program.

He grinned when the program opened up the files, and he watched as random pictures and files started to blink across the screen.

The smile slipped from his face briefly as a familiar picture flickered across the screen, and he hurriedly backtracked, staring at the photo. He heard Alfred calling out to him.

"Arthur? What is it?" he looked up, and saw alarm cross Alfred's face; no doubt the other man could see how white his face had gone.

"Nothing." He said, quickly starting the copying process and sliding the drive out of sight. Alfred reached out and curled a hand around Arthur's wrist, and he couldn't help but seek the comfort, interlacing their fingers. "I…I'll tell you when we get out." He managed. Alfred nodded, and gently led him out of the room, carefully switching off the display screen and exiting the room quietly.

* * *

 ** _1920 HRS_**

Mei looked nervously at the signaller on her wrist. They only had forty minutes before Ayshe had instructed them all to leave, and yet she and Gilbert were the only ones waiting near the blind spot. They had returned to the server room and reset the cables the minute that they had gotten confirmation from both Teams C and D that their tasks were complete, and quickly returned to the small storeroom that they'd entered the facility through.

"They'll be fine." Gilbert reassured her. She sighed. She couldn't help it; she was seriously concerned, mostly for Arthur and Leon, of course, given that they were the ones closest to her, but she hoped that everyone got back safe and successful. Arthur and Alfred had obviously had a bit of a scare in the subterranean levels. She glanced at the current signal records, looking at Arthur's in particular.

 _A1: O-O  
A2: O-O  
B1: O-O  
B2: O-O  
C1: O-O  
C2: O-O  
D1: O-OO-OO-O  
D2: O-OO-O_

Arthur, being D1, had obviously encountered more trouble than Alfred, and she couldn't help but fear what was going on. They had gotten another signal from them both that signalled that the driver for the Confined Index had been set up and hidden, but she was still anxious. She heard Gilbert stand behind her.

"Why don't I go look for Ayshe and Leon?" he said. "You look a little too young to be an employee here." Mei looked over at him, hesitating.

"We're meant to stay in pairs."

"Yeah, but Ayshe and Leon also don't know the exact part of the south-eastern side that we're hiding by. They're probably nearby. If I can't find them by 1930, I'll come straight back, how about that?" Mei hesitated again, gnawing on her bottom lip with her teeth.

"…Okay, but please be careful." He nodded.

"If I send a three-click-signal, run, okay? Don't bother waiting." Mei sighed, but nodded. She would rather not abandon her friends, but she knew that he wouldn't appreciate her disobeying him. Nodding one last time and smiling reassuringly, Gilbert slipped out the door, leaving her alone in the dark.

* * *

 ** _1926 HRS_**

Ayshe had to move fast to clamp her hand over Leon's mouth to stop him yelping in surprise when Gilbert appeared behind them. The albino held his hands up bashfully.

"Sorry, sorry. Though you guys could use a guide to the blind spot." Ayshe glared at him. She had warned them all to stay in pairs, but she also couldn't deny that she and Leon hadn't been able to find the blind spot. She nodded, sighing deeply, and they followed Gilbert back to a small door to a storeroom. He gently swung it open, ducking away when a knife very nearly slit his throat open.

"I'm sorry!" Ayshe heard Mei whisper frantically to him. He waved his hands.

"It's alright, I swear. Good fucking reflexes that you have there." Gilbert complimented. Mei went a little red, but her embarrassment vanished when she spotted Ayshe and Leon as they slipped in the door. The slender Yanish girl was quick to dive on top of Leon and hug him, and smile widely at Ayshe, looking very relieved. Ayshe returned her smile.

"No sign of the others?" she inquired. Gilbert made a face and shook his head.

"Not yet, but they've all completed their tasks, so they hopefully shouldn't take long."

Gilbert was interrupted by an abrupt rapping on the window. They all jumped about a foot in the air as Gilbert slid the glass open, peering out at Lukas and Tino.

"Lukas! Tino! What on earth are you doing?" Ayshe hissed at them. Lukas shrugged helplessly.

"We thought that it might be safer to travel by the ventilation again, so we went back to the roof, grabbed our stuff and climbed back down." The Fynknian explained, frowning into the room. "Is everyone back?"

"We're waiting on Alfred and Arthur." Ayshe muttered. Lukas frowned, but didn't say anything.

"They have…22 minutes to get here." Gilbert murmured. "They'd better hurry up."

* * *

 ** _1942 HRS_**

Arthur had somehow expected that taking an elevator full of people up to the ground floor would mean the end of the mission, that they would automatically be picked out as not belonging, as being out-of-place or even straight up being declared imposters.

But…nothing happened.

They stood silently beside each other in the elevator, in which everyone else was also completely silent, and watched the numbers tick up.

 _-2, -1, 0…_

When the doors opened, they stepped out, and Arthur had to almost physically restrain himself from grabbing Alfred's warm hands again in disbelief as they continued to move down the hallway, easily passing by employees and security guards alike, and carefully angling their heads downwards slightly whenever they moved past security cameras. It seemed like it should be harder than it was, as they followed the floor plan handed to them by Ayshe, and found themselves in the south-eastern wing.

They wandered down a few hallways before locating the one where Mei and Gilbert would have entered, and felt relief flooding their systems as they saw the lean figure of Ayshe casually leaning on one of the doors. She looked up as they approached, and straightened up immediately, gesturing to them as they darted over and slipped inside the room. Their entry was met by relief and joy from the others. Arthur laughed quietly as Mei ran to hug him and Leon lingered back for a moment, playing up the angsty teenager card before also moving to hug him. He could see Alfred grinning at Gilbert as they ensured that they were both okay.

"Alright," Ayshe gently interrupted, "I understand that we're all relieved to be okay and undetected, but we need to get out of here." They all snapped to attention, nodding seriously. They all carefully climbed back out the window, helped to the ground by Lukas and Tino outside before Ayshe relocked the window and stepped away. Moving one by one, they darted across the small stretch of green between the walls and the woods. Arthur reached out for Alfred and squeezed his hand before running across, pausing by the tree-line to wait for him.

When the grinning blond jogged up next to him, Arthur didn't even have to move before Alfred had reached out and grabbed his hand. Arthur smiled happily, entwining their fingers as he glanced back at the building they had just managed to bug, and turned away, following Alfred through the foliage.

* * *

 **How does one write a heist? I've read Six of Crows like 5 times but I still don't know.**


	10. Repeat Offenders

**Yes, I'm still here. This chapter was written in 1 day. Rip my fingers.**

 **PLEASE READ EVERYTHING IN THIS CHAPTER NOTE I PROMISE IT IS ALL IMPORTANT SOMEHOW!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Heisting happened. Alfred and Arthur got their sexual tension all over the place.**

 **WARNINGS: very minor self-harm. It isn't related to depression or anything similar in any way, and isn't performed for the typical reasons, but I wanted to be sure to give fair warning, just in case.**  
 **Mentions of child abuse. Descriptions of torture and murder. Some description of a corpse.**

 **To anyone who ships USUK…( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)…I got you homie. I GOT YOU.**  
 **To anyone who doesn't; apologies, but it just be like that sometimes.**

 **IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ THIS! I KNOW IT'S LONG, I GOT CARRIED AWAY, SORRY!**  
 **Guys, I am about to dive into a minor character arc in this story that deals with mental illnesses and trauma. The character I refer to here is Yao, just for the record. I didn't want to create confusion since there are some other scenes in this chapter which could be interpreted as relating to trauma.**

 **Now, I have never suffered from the illness I am aiming to portray, nor do I know anyone who has. However, I want to do it justice. Too often, people with mental illness are portrayed as insane or dangerous. This illness and others like it especially get a bad reputation from people who really don't know what they're talking about. I want to do this in a respectful manner, and do it as accurately as I can while using only the internet as a source.**

 **I am not an expert in this area, nor will I ever claim to be. If anyone takes serious objection to the way that I portray this illness, please don't feel afraid to let me know so I can change and improve the way that I depict it. I am very much so open to and actively welcoming suggestions from all readers. If you know what this illness is like or just want to share how another has affected your life, please tell me. This arc is something that I have been very hesitant to actually do, though I have wanted to depict this for a while now. I aim to make this story realistic, but not over-dramatized or romanticised. If something about how I choose to do this rubs you the wrong way, please let me know. I want to be respectful and considerate, especially considering the severity of some of the things I am seeking to eventually depict here.**

 **Thank you all for understanding. I hope that I can this justice, not just for people who suffer from this specific illness, but to everyone who has been misjudged for having mental illnesses. For too long, people have been called 'crazy' based on the fact that they have a certain mental illness. I know that is not the case, and I want to make sure that anyone who reads this story knows that.**

 **Thank you all again, and without further ado, enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,_  
 _Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,_  
 _10th Jaune_

Yao drew in a deep breath as he pressed a hand to his temples. He had been having trouble concentrating for the last few days, and he'd started to drift into inattention even in the middle of conversations. He had wondered if it was a result of fatigue or even heatstroke, but he had taken the last few nights off to actually sleep, and even gone to see Kabeeta, but physically, there was nothing wrong with him.

Even during his conversation with young Matthias Køhler, he had felt off-kilter and struggled to keep his mind in the conversation. It had eased up eventually, and he had been able to focus on Octavia when speaking with her, but it was starting to concern him. His mind had been drifting off course more and more often for the last few months, whether he meant it to or not. As if that weren't enough, the odd feeling had started to affect his emotions as well.

He had shown almost no emotion; had been able to feel almost nothing when he was told that three young recruits had been killed in a training accident, but had felt close to lashing out in blistering rage when Octavia had told him that they had fallen short their construction quota of long-range sniper rifles by only two. He felt all over the place, both exhausted and manic with energy, sad yet borne aloft by an inexplicable, burgeoning hope.

He didn't have either the time or will to go and see Kabeeta about it, though, so he forced the feelings down and threw himself back into his work, like he normally did. He shook his head. He felt like the stability that he had built up over the years had been knocked off it's alignment after his trial. The raw vulnerability of having his secrets and shames exposed to so many people, in addition to immediately having to face the person who had outright betrayed and deceived him had shaken him deeply. But Yao was normally able to get over things like that. It seemed, right now, that he was getting worse and worse as time went on.

Yao combed some loose locks of hair back from his forehead with his bare hand, wrinkling his nose and withdrawing his hand when he noted how greasy his hair felt. He felt like it hadn't been too long since he'd properly showered and washed his hair, but the oil on his fingers would disagree. Sighing, he pushed himself up and moved towards the bathrooms, keen to be properly clean again.

* * *

There was a young woman waiting for him when he emerged and Yao stilled, glad that he had pulled his gloves back on in the bathroom rather than waiting to get back into his office. He blinked for a moment, confused, but smiled as she turned and he recognised her.

"Nelia, how can I help you?" the Jhobrasian woman smiled warmly.

"Well, I was told to deliver a message to you." She said, smile shifting into something more bashful as he raised one eyebrow curiously.

"I see. What message, may I ask?" Nelia sighed.

"Well, I was on guarding duty for the prisoners in cell block E, and their leader? Uhh, Matthias? He asked me to pass a message on for him." Yao straightened up. He had started to give up hope that the Rywanese bounty hunter would even bother to respond to his offer, so, even if it was a negative answer, the man had at least deigned to respond at all.

"And?"

"Uhh," Nelia blushed a little, "He…um…used rather strong language…"

"I promise I won't be offended." He said gently, smiling a little. Nelia sighed.

"Okay then, well, to quote him, um, 'Okay, fucking fine, I'll go along with your batshit plan, you crazy manipulative fucker'." She looked down as Yao snorted.

"Thank you, Nelia. If you could bring him to my office, I would be very grateful." She nodded, still looking a little embarrassed by the message, which Yao couldn't help but be rather amused by. He strode across the open common space, returning to his office with a sigh. He resolutely avoided looking at anyone with bronze skin and dark hair; he had been seeing Ayshe in every Nymian person that he walked past, and it was starting to get to him.

They had received news just yesterday that the first part of the mission had been successful, and that they had gone undetected. Yao was glad, but not very surprised. He had chosen Ayshe for the mission for that exact reason; she made even seemingly hopeless situations look bright, and could turn a mission doomed to fail into a resolute success. He had been too harsh with her before she and the others had left, and he regretted his actions now. _I'll apologise to her when she gets back, properly, in person_. He could only hope that she didn't hold it against him.

He sat behind his desk, wishing that he could go and sleep. There was a reason that he normally only slept a few hours a night or just stayed awake; he had trained himself into surviving on small amounts of sleep, so when he slept a normal night's worth, he was left wanting more sleep, feeling groggy and disoriented. Combined with his lack of focus over the last few weeks, and the overall quality of his work had been slipping dangerously.

Yao rolled his shoulders back as Nelia escorted the grumpy blond man in the door and into the chair that he had occupied about five days previously. There were dark smudges under his eyes which indicated that he hadn't been sleeping much, and the resigned scowl on his face told Yao all that he needed to know about his willingness in this agreement.

"Good evening, Mr Køhler." He said simply. The blond heaved a sigh, not bothering to return the greeting. Yao resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but continued to speak, a smile stretching across his face despite himself. "I got your message."

A smirk broke through the scowl on Matthias' face, and Yao leant back a little, satisfied as some of the tension in the room dispersed. "It was a little crudely worded, but I got the basic gist of things." Yao continued. "So, you've decided to cooperate, then. Why?" Matthias sighed, kicking his bare feet at the empty air.

"Because, my friends are suffering. Being locked up for so long? Its fucking _killing_ them. We made a mistake, trying to escape from your subordinates, alright, we get it. But just because of that, just because we found out your little secret, doesn't mean that we should spend the rest of our lives, however long that is, suffering for it. I don't want to go to Fynkn. I don't really care about fighting the Union or protecting some royal brat, but it gives my friends the chance to walk free again, so I'll do it." Yao stayed silent, watching him carefully.

"How noble." He said carefully. Matthias glared at him, obviously not fond of his tone. "I do mean that, too, Mr Køhler. Not many people would put themselves through hardship and trial for their friends." Matthias looked away.

"Yeah, whatever. So what now? Do I just go back to our cell and wait until your little prince comes back?" Yao shook his head.

"No. your time in captivity has weakened you, even I can see that much. You'll be allowed to spend your remaining time here outside, regaining your strength, brushing up on your Fynknian, anything really that needs to be done."

 _"Jeg trenger ikke å øve min Fynknyi."_ **(I don't need to practice my** **Fynknian** **)** Matthias spat. Yao raised an eyebrow.

 _"Jeg er glad for det."_ **(I'm glad of that)** Yao responded smoothly, making the blond blink in surprise. Yao smiled slightly. This would make things go a lot more smoothly. "Of course, we will also need to have you fitted for warmer clothes, and taught about the sort of conditions you can expect on Fynkn." Yao inclined his head a little. "I'm very glad that you decided to help us out." Matthias opened his mouth to say something, but Yao beat him to it. "I realise that you aren't doing this for us, but I'm thanking you as a courtesy." Matthias slammed his mouth shut, looking irritated but not quite as angry as he had before. Yao was silent for a moment, ignoring the odd whispering in the back of his mind and the bizarre surge of emotion that flooded through his system. He really needed to sleep.

"Nelia." He called to the Jhobrasian woman. She had stood far enough away to not hear their conversation, but close enough to hear Yao if he called for her. He waited until she had entered the room to continue. "Our friend has deigned to cooperate with us. Octavia knows the specifics, so kindly just explain the situation to her and she can handle it from there." Nelia nodded, ducking her head slightly.

"Yes sir." She said, ushering Matthias out the door, leaving Yao to his own thoughts.

 _Dangerous very dangerous this is so dangerous you're mad for doing this you're absolutely mad_ , one intrusive thought screamed at him. Blinking abruptly at its suddenness and uncharacteristic negativity, Yao took a deep breath in, trying to banish it to the depths of his consciousness and let his mind drift away a little. Køhler was cunning, but he was far from stupid. If he cared enough about his friends to go through with this, then it was unlikely that he would jeopardise it by trying to hurt Lukas. And, in any case, Lukas could definitely protect himself against one bounty hunter, no matter how highly trained.

 _You're making mistakes so so many mistakes you really think that you know what you're doing you don't know what you're doing-_

"Shut up, me." Yao sighed wearily, shaking his head a little to rid himself of the nagging in his mind. "I do not need negativity right now." He sighed, glancing over at the clock and blinking when he noted that it had been about an hour since he had met Nelia outside the bathrooms. His conversation with Køhler had only taken up about 15 minutes or so. He…hadn't been sitting here for over 40 minutes, had he?

 _That's ridiculous_. His brain murmured. There was no way. No, he shook his head. No doubt, he had read the clock wrong earlier. Shaking off the chill that had settled into his bones, Yao stood, ignoring how deeply unsettled he felt as he quickly left his tent.

* * *

 _Merdide Neighbourhood, Priiko City  
North-Eastern Reycass  
10th Jaune_

Alfred groaned as he stretched, sighing in relief as he felt his back crack satisfyingly and resolutely ignoring the disgusted look on Leon's face when he heard the noise. The last few days had been a bizarre change of pace from just before their first infiltration of Xi Lan Ey. Before the mission had taken place, the atmosphere around their temporary lodgings had been tense and anxious, and they had all had their minds fixed on the mission.

Their second planned infiltration of the building, however, didn't rely on nearly as much stealth as their first one did. They still needed to be subtle, so that they could escape without being captured, but if they were detected this time, it wouldn't really matter since they already had the information they needed. Everyone was a lot more relaxed now, and had been absently discussing what they were going to do when they got back to Nyma.

It had been about nine at night when they had gotten back from Xi Lan Ey, and they had spent a long time debriefing and explaining what had happened during the mission. He and Arthur had had to spend a while working through why exactly they had triggered their alarms while getting to the database room. Apparently it had spooked Ayshe and the others quite badly, but they were all relieved to hear that the situation hadn't gone south.

The whole group had lost their minds laughing when they heard about how Gilbert and Mei had avoided arousing suspicion, though Alfred hadn't missed the over-protective frown on Arthur's face as he stared down Gilbert. It was sweet, in Alfred's mind, that he cared so much about his subordinates. Ayshe hadn't been pleased to hear that Lukas had used his water manipulation to get himself and Tino out, but the sniper had stepped in to explain that there was no other way that they could have gotten out of the room without alerting security. She had calmed down a little after that.

By the time they had finished their debriefing, it had been almost 2am and they had all wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. It had been a relief when Ayshe finally dismissed them. Alfred had thought that he would be too anxious to sleep, still full of adrenaline from the mission, but had passed out just minutes after climbing into bed, and hadn't woken up until 2 in the afternoon. When he had trudged outside, only Ayshe, Leon and Gilbert had been awake. Lukas and Tino had been so exhausted as a result of their climbs up and down the side of the facility, and shimmying through the ventilation that they hadn't woken up until about three hours after Alfred.

They had all been so groggy and mentally worn out that they hadn't done much other than eat and relax; reading books and even watching tv to look out for any reports of a break-in at the intelligence centre. Alfred had ended up going back to bed at about 1 am or so, though he woke up at the fairly reasonable hour of 11am that morning. By that time, they had been running low on a few different foodstuffs, so Alfred had gone with Lukas to go and get more.

He didn't think that Lukas himself was creepy – a little withdrawn and quiet, but hey, so was Berwald, and he wasn't off-putting at all. The guy's abilities weren't that creepy either (though, admittedly, he didn't love the idea of having someone poke around in his head) but they were unsettling. He knew that he would get over it eventually, but he could tell that he'd already hurt Lukas a little by being flinchy on the subject in the first place, which he regretted a lot.

When he and Lukas had returned with more food, Mei and Leon had been quick to start cooking food for everyone. They had spent some more time going over their roles for the second break-in in a few days' time, ensured that the drives were all still working properly via the use of a remote monitor, and continued to re-study the floorplans of the facility and study the new guard rotations for their second entry.

They had been so busy ever since the first break-in that Alfred hadn't really gotten the chance to properly talk to Arthur. He had no idea where they stood right now, and wasn't entirely sure if the pirate even wanted to talk to him. Everything that had happened during the mission, from Arthur calming him down when he got scared, to holding hands so much, even to Arthur kissing his cheek the night before the mission…they hadn't talked about any of it. It made Alfred a little nervous, because, well, he liked Arthur, a _lot_ , but he had no idea if Arthur felt the same way. He didn't want to force the pirate to have a conversation about it if he didn't want to, though, so Alfred had resigned himself to existing in eternal limbo with the blond.

At least, he had resigned himself to such until Arthur asked to talk to him. The request was a little surprising, honestly, but he wasn't about to decline it. Alfred tugged at the hem of his shirt nervously. He was seated on the end of Arthur's bed again, fiddling with his clothes and studying the beige walls probably a little more closely than was necessarily required. He heard Arthur sigh quietly, and decided to kickstart the conversation.

"So…uhh…why did you want to talk to me?" Alfred asked. Arthur looked up, emerald green eyes wide and blinking in surprise.

"Well…" Arthur hesitated. Alfred could almost see the moment that he chose to change the topic in his mind. "You…I wanted to know why you acted how you did at the facility. I mean…there's nothing wrong with being claustrophobic, of course, but you were fine in the mountains so I guess I was just wondering…why did you react in the facility but not in the mountain passes?"

Alfred hummed under his breath. It wasn't that he was opposed to answering the question, but he certainly hadn't been expecting it. He probably should have; Arthur was wickedly observant.

"Well, I wouldn't say that I'm like a normal claustrophobic, actually. Any confined space is alright but it's just when my body is all cramped up against the sides that I freak out." Arthur was watching him intently. Alfred sighed.

"Well, I'll have to explain a few things first, so bear with me." Alfred muttered, clearing his throat slightly. "Alright so, you know Matthew, right?" Arthur nodded. "Yup, he's my brother, older than me by little over a year. We were raised in Beledent on Rywan, and, well, to be completely honest, our parents were really shitty. They never let us talk or ask questions; if we did anything other than hide away in our rooms and be quiet, we'd normally get knocked around a bit." Alfred saw Arthur clench his fists a little at that, and smiled sadly.

"Anyway…yeah, they really didn't love us or care about us at all." He murmured. "When the Expansion happened, well, Beledent had a really big Fynknian population, so they rounded them all up and planned to deport them back to Fynkn, despite the fact that they all had valid visas and papers and stuff. The day that they all broke out and rioted was one of the few days that my parents took Mattie and I out into the marketplace. Matt got separated from us in all the chaos, and my parents didn't really try that hard to find him." Arthur nodded sadly.

"After a few months…well, they noticed exactly how much cheaper it was having one less child, so, they, uhh…they decided to get rid of me too." Arthur's eyes were wide and horrified, and Alfred reached out and squeezed his hand gently. "They took me to an orphanage in Karkira City and left me there." Arthur stiffened even more, and Alfred gently brushed his thumb over the back of his hand. "The people who worked at the orphanage…they weren't kind. It was clear that they didn't get paid much and just kept the job because they had no other option. Anyway…whenever one of the kids was bad, they used to lock us in these small wooden trunks. They only had the smallest gaps in them for air and light, and if you ever yelled out or threw a fuss while inside one, they used to kick the box around until you stopped." He shrugged. "I was a loud kid. I liked to talk to people. I got thrown in there a lot."

"Oh…Alfred…" Arthur murmured quietly, enclosing Alfred's hand in both of his own. "That's…well…how could they do that to little children?" Alfred shrugged.

"I don't know, but being in small little space always reminds me of those chests. It's stupid, I know-"

"It isn't stupid." Arthur declared, grip tightening. "Not even remotely." He paused for a moment. "My childhood wasn't like that, not even close, so I won't act like I know what it was like, but…you didn't deserve that, and I hope you realise that." Alfred smiled.

"Yeah…it took me a while to accept that they were the ones at fault…thank you, Artie." Arthur smiled gently. Alfred sucked in a deep breath, focusing on the feel of his hand enclosed between Arthur's, memorising the feeling unless what he said next ruined it. "Can I ask? …What…um…what exactly are we?" Arthur looked at him. "I mean, we get along really well as friends but…this is like the tenth time that you've held my hand."

Arthur chuckled quietly. "Well, that depends…what exactly is it that you want from me?"

Alfred swallowed. "Well, that's the thing, you know? You don't owe me anything, and I would never act like I have the right to demand anything from you, because I don't, and that's just wrong, but you kinda give off weird signals sometimes and I don't know if I'm getting your vibe right or if I'm just dumb so-"

"You aren't dumb, Alfred." Arthur cut in elegantly. "But…let me ask you this. What signals do you think I've been giving off?" Alfred blinked, flushing.

"Well, you…um, you sometimes…uhh…flirt?" he immediately felt his face redden and prayed for the ground to open up and let him descend straight into hell. Arthur was smirking a little.

"I…flirt…Right…anything else?"

"Well…" Alfred trailed off, staring at Arthur. He didn't seem to be repulsed by the direction that the conversation was going in. His mind ran over the conversation that they had just had, as well as every other nice thing the man had done for him. Calming him down when the rebels took him captive, helping redo the bandages on his leg after Matthew stabbed him, comforting him last night, always listening even when he knew that he was being an idiot. The list was endless. "I…" he trailed off, swallowing. _Don't be a wimp_. "I…I just really wanna kiss you, actually." He said, his voice sounding a little hoarse. He didn't dare meet Arthur's eyes, turning his attention to one part of his shirt hem that was starting to fray. He felt warmth on the sides of his face, and realised that Arthur was cupping his jaw in his hands.

"I'm really glad that you just said that." Arthur whispered, sliding one hand back so that his fingers were curled in Alfred's hair. "Are you sure that you mean it? You want to kiss a nine-fingered, Chalydrantis-ridden pirate?" Alfred sucked in a breath, nodding. Arthur watched him for a long moment, gently brushing his thumb over his cheek. "Alright then."

Then they were actually kissing, instead of just talking about it.

Arthur was incredibly warm, though the feel of his fingers sliding through Alfred's hair made him shiver, and he couldn't help but press himself closer to the pirate. He wound his arms around Arthur's waist and pulled him in. The older man didn't seem troubled by it, simply shifting his legs so that he could properly sit on Alfred's lap. His mouth was warm and soft pressed against his own, intoxicating and heady. Alfred felt dizzy when their mouths both opened up a little, the feeling hotter and wetter than it had been before. One of Arthur's hands strayed from Alfred's hair to his shoulder, before looping around so that he was holding Alfred's body up against his own.

 _Oh my god I'm gonna die happy_ , Alfred's brain joyfully supplied as he felt Arthur nip his bottom lip a little. His thoughts were racing and tumbling over each other in a euphoric haze, each screaming about the feel of Arthur's muscles through his shirt or the faint taste of coffee on his lips. It wasn't long after that, though, that Arthur decided to introduce his tongue to the equation, and the small amount of cognitive function that Alfred still had ground to a total and complete halt.

They finally surfaced for air at some point after that, breathing deeply and feeling thoroughly kiss-bitten. Arthur chuckled softly, leaning his forehead against Alfred's. Alfred tightened his grip on Arthur's middle ever so slightly, almost afraid that he was going to run away.

"Was that a one-time thing? Or…" Alfred trailed off, immediately regretting that he had asked the question. Arthur looked down at him, as if he were considering his words.

"Hmm…nope." He said, kissing Alfred again. "I intend…" Cue another kiss. "To do this…" he dragged his teeth along Alfred's bottom lip again, drawing a keening noise from the overwhelmed bounty hunter, "…as much as possible." Then he pressed their lips together properly, and Alfred decided that it was best to stop asking questions.

* * *

 _Ror'a Plateau  
About 320 kilometres (200 miles) east of Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma  
12th Jaune_

"Not bad." Kari commented as she stretched her arm out and rotated it. The worst of the pain was gone now, though a twinge here and there told her that it still needed to heal a little. Tori was watching her anxiously, guilt all over her features even though she hadn't done anything.

"Are you sure? I can try again." Kari grinned, tossing her fair hair over her shoulder as the Daernic girl continued to fuss over her.

"It feels a lot better, I promise. You're getting good at this." Tori smiled a little, though she sighed nonetheless.

"Thanks. I just wish that there was another way for me to learn. You guys shouldn't have to go through this just so I can improve." Kari giggled a little.

"You know, I helped Lukas train his gifts a little, too. I let him put me in a coma, for saints' sake. A dislocated shoulder is nothing." Tori looked doubtful, but didn't press the issue any further.

For the last few weeks, Matthew and Emilia, with the supervision of Octavia, had been helping Tori train her abilities, but when they had seen her back at her usual place at the dining hall, she had been invited to come along too, which she was more than happy to do. She had been sent off to conduct a bit of reconnaissance in the Gafadari Grasslands, and though she was always happy to work, she had missed being around the hustle and bustle of normal resistance life.

Finding out that she had missed out on helping Tori train her had been deeply irritating. Kari had always had the future of the Free Courts as one of her top priorities, so helping Tori train was just a way of her fulfilling that. Unfortunately, due to the nature of the Daernic royal gifts, Tori was a little harder to help.

The gifts of the Daernic royal family were known as the _Dovana_ , and, like those of the Syhvvanian and Fynknian royal families, were quite powerful. Like the other two remaining Free Courts, the Laurinaitis family had traditionally had mastery over one element – earth. From what Elizabeta and Octavia had explained to her, the Daernic people called this ability the _Zeme_ , and it was one of the more powerful abilities in the Free Court royal arsenal. The other of the two gifts was the ability to heal others, dubbed the _Gijimas_. Since Tori had been having trouble with manipulating the earth, it was the other of her gifts that they were currently trying to train.

Kari had had no problem with the idea of helping Tori learn how to heal people, until Octavia had turned and asked if she would be willing to have her arm popped out of it's socket. It was a testament to the sheer bizarreness of her life that the question hadn't even fazed her, nor had it been the strangest thing that she had ever been asked.

Tori was obviously a lot better at healing than she was at using the earth, luckily for Kari, though continually dislocating her own shoulder was starting to seriously hurt. She wasn't the only one sucking up their pain and complaints to help, though.

Upon seeing Tori rise from her place next to Kari, Matthew sighed a little and withdrew his knife from his belt, wincing only a little as he pressed it into the skin of his arm, near his elbow, and dragged it across. Red spilled outwards, dripping down his arm in a steady stream. Tori sighed, crossing the short distance to him and laying her fingers gently on his arm near the injury. There was a beat of silence before the sides of the cut knitted themselves back together, and the stream of red ceased. Matthew hummed in satisfaction, wiping the blood on his arm away, leaving only the slightest red mark, akin to a scratch, to show that he had ever been hurt.

"Alright, I think that that's enough for one day." Octavia cut in when Tori swayed slightly. "I think you should all head back. I'll collect the gear."

"You sure?" Matthew asked. Octavia nodded, smiling a little.

"I've watched you two dislocate your bones and cut yourselves open for the last two hours. I think I can handle packing up some gear." Matthew relaxed a little, grinning.

"Well, if you're sure. Thanks, Octavia." The Daernic Vice-general smiled, and began to pick up the scattered medical equipment lying around the ground. Matthew smiled softly. Though the trial itself had been a horrific affair, it had had some legitimately good results. Yao's leadership and loyalty had not come into question even remotely ever since Maarch, and it had made all of the resistance's highest-ranking members a lot more bearable.

Octavia had obviously taken the time after the trial to self-reflect, not only on how she had treated Yao and neglected to notice the real threat, but also on how she operated as a leader and Vice-General. The result had been a massive improvement in her overall demeanour, role and image to the rest of the resistance. Matthew didn't think he was wrong in believing that she had taken a few cues from how Yao conducted himself and analysed situations before creating a suitable plan in response.

She had already been an effective leader, and a good person, too, if misguided on rare occasions, but her ability to self-reflect, grow and improve herself was making Matthew really like her. He admired her a lot more now for acknowledging her own mistakes than he had previously when she tried to portray herself as infallible. It was nice to see that even the people he learned from weren't above taking a lesson to heart.

Matthew's thoughts drifted to Alfred as he followed Kari and Tori back to one of the trucks they had taken out here. The mission to Xi Lan Ey was half-way done, with only the second infiltration and retrieval left. Despite having been suspended when the mission was declared, Yao had still kept him in the loop of what the venture entailed. It was comforting to know that his brother had done well in their first mission inside. Their first entry had been so critical, according to Yao, because, had the staff of Xi Lan Ey realised they had a break-in, they would have conducted top-to-bottom searches of the entire facility, and quickly pulled the plug on the drives intended to collect information from their database.

Their second entry, however, didn't matter nearly as much. Since the drives would have already collected a shit-ton of information, all that mattered was getting them out safely. Subtlety and discretion weren't the main focus. They would have a much easier time of it.

* * *

 _Xi Lan Ey Intelligence Centre,  
Outside Priiko City, Reycass  
13th Jaune_

Tino sighed as the three security guards in front of the door dropped like flies, unconsciousness immediately taking hold of each of them. "You could be a little more subtle."

Lukas looked up, brow furrowed as he withdrew his extended hand. "Ayshe said that discretion wasn't necessary." Tino rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, and Alfred and Arthur also insisted that they haven't spent the last three days making out and thinking about fucking each other. Do you believe them?" Lukas rolled his eyes. That had been a minor revelation of the last few days, brought about when the pair had emerged from Arthur's room flushed and _very_ rumpled, with Alfred looking like he was ready to take to the skies with joy while Arthur had asked for a sandwich in deadpan.

Gilbert had practically doubled over cackling at them, while Mei clapped her hands together in excitement and Leon just rolled his eyes. Ayshe hadn't seemed to care, though knowing how observant she was, she had definitely noticed. Tino personally was happy for them. They went well together. Lukas, much like Ayshe, had appeared to have been disinterested with the whole affair. Tino had still caught the small smirk on his face when he'd turned away, though. Evidently, despite all appearances to the contrary, Lukas was happy for them too.

"I feel like there is a distinct difference between that situation and this one." Lukas pointed out. "We're near the blind spot, no-one will see."

"Do you really want the Union to know that you're alive and kicking though? And with the resistance, much less." Tino pointed out. Lukas scowled, but didn't try to fight him further on the topic. "I think you should use your gifts, of course, but maybe not where there are over 200 cameras linked directly to a Union server." Lukas hesitated, and then frowned more. Tino knew him well enough by now to know that it meant he had won.

"Yeah, whatever. Yao probably wouldn't let me get involved in anything even if that _did_ happen." Tino shot him a look.

"He let you come on this mission."

"Because he wanted to get me out of his hair for a while. I'm no idiot, Tino. I know that you being paired up with me wasn't a coincidence, and neither was him sending his best Admiral to lead this mission." Tino winced.

"Well, in all fairness, I think that he was trying to get Ayshe away from him as well." Tino shrugged. "He likes to throw his problems a good distance away and run while he has the chance. He'll definitely be working at it behind the scenes, but he doesn't like it when people get up in his face about things. Mentioning it once or twice would have sufficed, even if it seems like he isn't responding. That's just who Yao is." Lukas inclined his head a little, indicating that he was listening as they clambered through a window set into the wall and proceeded down the hall.

"I know that, but…I want to be useful, and he isn't letting me." Lukas muttered. Tino looked over at him sympathetically.

"He will, just give him enough time to spin together some crazy scheme. He's probably already done that, and he'll spring it on you when we get back." Tino reasoned. "I mean, I get that you're frustrated, but…Yao has a lot to deal with, and not just from the resistance." Lukas frowned as he used his powers to 'convince' a female worker that she couldn't see or hear anything as they walked past.

"What do you mean?" Tino shrugged.

"I don't think the trial was good for him. He's been a little off ever since, don't you think?" Lukas nodded a little.

"Yeah…when I was looking through everyone's minds to find the spy, I saw a few flashes of what was in his." Lukas flinched. "Not pleasant." Tino winced.

"Yeah, I doubt it would be. I don't envy you. It's up here." he gestured as they quickly climbed a staircase to the fourth floor and ducked down a side corridor towards where they had left the drive little under five days ago. They had received a notification that the drives were all finished collecting data earlier that day, and had quickly worked out their plan to re-enter the facility.

They had been assigned to the same pairs and areas as the first time. Tino could only hope that Arthur and Alfred were focussing on the mission and not each other.

Lukas raised his hand, and Tino watched the two guards in front of the door to the server collapse. It was more effective than any chloroform or other sedative, and the effect was broken only when Lukas said it was. He could also prevent them from remembering their faces. As it was, they had pulled biker masks over the bottoms of their faces to prevent their faces from being filmed properly by the security cameras. Lukas's hair was still dyed black, so they didn't need to worry about the Union seeing that he was Fynknian. Due to how Lukas had been raising and positioning his hand, it appeared, to all outward appearances, that he was holding something in his hand which was knocking the guards out. It was all for show, of course, since Lukas didn't need his hands to control minds.

They slipped inside, and Lukas ducked over to the drive, still faithfully plugged into the server under a desk, checking that it had been collecting information before hurriedly removing it and wrapping it in the thick, wool scarf they had brought, stuffing it inside his jacket. Tino watched the door carefully, fingers curled around the handle of a pistol. You could never be too cautious in a place like this.

Lukas nodded at Tino once he was ready, and they slunk from the room, stepping over the unconscious guards, with Lukas pausing momentarily to ensure he wiped all memories of the brief encounter from their minds before they proceeded.

Tino never really appreciated how slow being sneaky could be. Where the mission had taken them almost two hours just a few days ago, it now took about fifteen minutes in all. They jogged down the stairs and past the few guards that they hadn't bothered knocking unconscious, brushing off the confusion as the Unionists slowly realised that they weren't meant to be there. Ducking through the window they had originally entered the building though – the same one that Gilbert and Mei had entered through last time – they left the facility unscathed and significantly less stressed than they had last time.

Moving quietly through the woods, they were pleasantly surprised to find Arthur and Alfred already waiting – thankfully with their mouths separate from one another – and paused to wait for Ayshe and Leon. Since Gilbert and Mei didn't really have a job to do this time around, they had lingered back at the apartment, getting the ship ready for departure. They had all voted on the issue, and decided that leaving as soon as possible was a good decision. They had revised their infiltration tactics that morning as they folded clothes and stowed away weaponry.

Arthur tensed, standing from where he'd been talking softly with Alfred. Tino followed his gaze as Lukas and Alfred also came to attention.

"That isn't Ayshe." Arthur murmured, right before a guard dressed in the bland grey of a legitimate Unionist stepped into the small space that they had been waiting in.

The man's hands were reaching for a gun before they had all even reacted properly to his presence, and just as Tino stumbled backwards, fingers seeking his own weapon, Lukas threw his hands out. Tino understood what he had done right before Lukas himself seemed to realise. The Fynknian didn't need his hands to control minds, but he used them constantly whenever he made water bend to his will. And, Tino reflected as his heart sunk and nausea stirred in the pit of his stomach, the human body was composed predominantly of water.

The man had stilled with a revolver in his hands, arm bent as he had no doubt intended to lift it and shoot them. Judging by his alignment, Alfred had been his first target. His face was locked in a bizarre expression; still, but with the beginnings of fear etched into the features, as if his mind had just started to recognise what was going on as he froze.

Lukas hadn't frozen him in a sheet of ice, and Tino couldn't honestly say whether that would have been better or worse. No, Lukas had frozen the man himself. More specifically; the water in his body.

The guard's skin had already turned grey, with purple spider-webbing patterns etched all over. His veins stood out on his skin as if they had been placed just under the surface. The blood in them had frozen, marking out their shape. His skin was already turning dark underneath the fine layer of frost that lay atop his skin, his frame stiff and unyielding. Tino didn't know if he was dead yet or not.

He was shaken to his senses by a thudding noise which, on quick inspection, proved to be Lukas. Tino momentarily worried that he had overexerted himself, or fainted from shock, but the Fynknian was well and truly alive, if looking more shell-shocked and horrified than Tino had ever seen him before.

"We…we need to…" Arthur trailed off, staring at the frozen guard in a mixture of fascination and repulsion. The pirate swallowed, resolutely turning away from the horrific sight as he tugged a stunned Alfred to his feet. "We need you to unfreeze him. It'll be obvious what happened and who did it if we leave him like this." Lukas didn't respond, staring at the man in unreserved horror. "Lukas." Arthur said his name firmly, and the 19-year-old looked over at him, face white. "Melt him."

For a long moment, Tino feared that Lukas was shutting down, but he extended his arm and clenched his fist. Steam curled off the man's skin, and the now-definitively-dead man crumpled, the ice no longer holding him up. Tino stared at Lukas, concern overriding all of his other senses. They were pulled from their shocked reverie by Ayshe and Leon entering the space, looking triumphant for all of one second before they took in the scene and stopped short.

Lukas was starting to look like he was going to be sick. Tino extended a hand carefully. "Lukas-"

The teen staggered to his feet, turned on his heel and bolted through the trees. Tino withdrew his hand. Well. Ayshe seemed to have grasped the situation, but Leon looked confused. Ayshe gestured in the direction that Lukas had just gone.

"Make sure he doesn't get himself hurt." She murmured quietly. As he turned away, he saw her kneel next to the body with a knife in her hands, no doubt to fabricate some other cause of death. Sighing deeply, Tino took off after Lukas.

* * *

"It could have been so much worse, you know." Arthur murmured. Lukas stiffened, but didn't look at him. "He would have shot Alfred if you hadn't stepped in."

"That doesn't mean that I wanted to kill him." Lukas whispered. He felt Arthur put a hand on his back.

Tino had tracked him down quickly after he had run off. The sniper hadn't said much, just sat close by him as he started shaking, and dragging his dyed hair back from his mouth when he had given into the nausea and vomited into the bushes. Lukas hadn't expected it to help, but it had, in a way, just having someone nearby who wasn't frightened of him, despite what he had just done.

They had dragged him back to the apartment, and he'd had bags shoved into his hands and had his shaking body escorted into one of the seats on the ship as they took off and left Reycass behind, but he hadn't really felt any of it.

"People rarely _want_ to kill." Arthur said, sounding like he knew Lukas' guilt all too well. "But sometimes, it proves necessary. If you hadn't killed him, he would have killed some of us. I know that he can be irritating at times, but I'm glad that you didn't let Alfred die." Lukas chuckled a little, even though the sound came out a little hoarse and wet from silent tears.

"It's not that I haven't killed anyone before…saints know I probably have, but I've never seen it so close. I've given people lethal wounds before but I've never stuck around to watch them die." Arthur tilted his head a little.

"This is the first time you've really seen the consequences of your actions, then. You aren't used to it." Arthur shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with that. Lukas, you reacted instinctively, and you saved us from exposure by doing it. I've seen people die in worse ways, so trust me when I say that it could have been worse. The guy probably didn't feel much, anyway."

Lukas looked over at him. "Have _you_ killed people in worse ways?" Arthur gave him a wry look.

"Absolutely. I can give you five examples off the top of my head. Do you want to hear one?"

Lukas dropped his chin onto his arms. "I don't want to, but for the sake of personal healing and all that, I feel like I probably have to." Arthur smiled again.

"One of my subordinates once betrayed me; he sold various governments after my head information about me and my ship. He poked his nose in places that he shouldn't have. He found out that I had Chalydrantis, actually. He was going to expose me for that, and ensure that I wasn't able to take treatment any more." Arthur smiled grimly, expression taking on an unsettled edge. "I was so angry and scared that I decided I had to get rid of him." He hesitated. "I did dark things back then; I got ill so often that I was so convinced that my Chalydrantis was outsmarting my body and that I was going to die soon. I didn't think that I had much to lose."

Lukas waited, silent and tense, for Arthur to continue. The pirate made eye contact with him. "I cut his arms open and pulled his nerves out. I cut and pulled at them until he was screaming and crying for mercy. I disconnected the vertebrae of his spine until he couldn't feel anything below his waist, and then slit his throat. I slowly killed him for hours." Arthur frowned a little. "That incident alone has probably put me far past redemption. I'm not saying this because I'm trying to be nice, I'm saying it because it's a fact. He could have died in a worse way."

"He probably had a family." Lukas murmured. Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Who? The man _you_ killed, or the one _I_ did?" Lukas looked up.

"Both."

Arthur turned away, and shrugged. "Didn't you have one too, once upon a time?"

Sickening noises drawn from a memory echoed around the back of Lukas' mind; bones snapping and a horrible, wet, gurgling. "Once upon a time." Arthur shrugged.

"An eye for an eye. The people who killed your parents were Union. That guard was, too." Lukas shrugged.

"I guess so." Arthur nodded briefly, then stood. "Don't let it get to you." Lukas sighed.

"Yeah, yeah…thanks, Arthur." The pirate shrugged with one shoulder.

"You're welcome."

Lukas drew his folded knees tighter to his chest as the pirate left the room, gazing out at the vast array of stars that met his vision through the window. They glowed and winked gently at him, and he rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth.

He glanced up as the door slid open again, this time revealing – to his immense surprise – Alfred. The former bounty hunter looked a little lost, like he didn't entirely know what he was doing there, but he crossed the room and sat down next to Lukas anyway.

They sat in total silence for a while, both admiring the stars as their ship surged through space, back to Nyma.

"…Thank you." Alfred murmured. The words startled Lukas from his peaceful haze, and he looked at Alfred in shock and confusion. Alfred made eye contact with him, a crooked smile stretching across his face. "I mean it. That guy…he was aiming for me. I'd be dead if you hadn't acted. Even Tino was caught off-guard, and that guy's vigilant as all hell."

Lukas stayed silent for a while, unsure of how to respond. "…I thought that you found me creepy." Alfred winced, and sighed, leaning back.

"I mean, I'm not exactly used to watching water fly through the air or people get knocked unconscious through the sheer power of _will_ , but that's my backwards Rywanese childhood speaking. It's not your fault that I'm not used to seeing anything spectacular. I'll get used to it."

Lukas shrugged. "You don't have to make yourself see me as normal." Alfred looked over at him, frowning a little.

"Dude…your family has been around and doing these things for how long? 5000 years? Longer than that even? What you do is more normal than a lot of what I do. I mean…bounty hunting wasn't a booming business way back then. It wasn't a business at all!" Alfred was gesturing wildly as he explained, and Lukas had to shift away a little to avoid getting slapped by a wayward hand.

"Alright…I get the point." Lukas sighed. Alfred grinned, lowering his hands.

"Seriously man. Gimme a few weeks and I'll be right. I mean, it took me a few hours to accept that the brother I thought was dead was alive and kicking and a rebel badass. I can accept this too. If I don't, Tori would probably find a way to hurl me into the atmosphere with those earth powers she has anyway." Lukas cracked a smile.

"I don't think she can quite manage that yet."

"Can't she? Excellent. Looks like I won't get personally acquainted with an asteroid belt too quickly then." Lukas couldn't help it; he laughed. It wasn't something that he did very often, a fact that wasn't lost on most people who spoke to him. Alfred was grinning. Lukas calmed down a little as they resumed their star-gazing.

"Thank you, Alfred."

"I really didn't do anythi-"

"Just accept my gratitude."

"Alrighty."

The silence had resumed, but it wasn't so awkward, and, Lukas realised, he didn't feel quite so guilty anymore.

* * *

 **Can you tell that USUK has grown on me a lot as a ship? Because it really has. I'm sorry to all FRUK shippers out there, because, while I understand why you ship it (I ship both), in this story, Francis has other things to focus on. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯**

 **Sorry for the angst with Lukas. Our bby will be alright, I promise.**

 **Also holy shit this was over 8358 words I need to stop.**


	11. The Words of a Wise Woman

**Aannd another update is upon y'all. I've started uni (yay?) and oh boy my degree is already kicking off to have a heavy workload. Why does law require so much reading? Boii?**

 **RECAP (oh my god why do I write such long chapters):**  
 **\- Yao has been having some difficulties since his trial, and is finding certain tasks (like self-hygiene) and staying focussed, a little hard. (Again, I welcome all feedback as this arc progresses)**  
 **\- Matthias agreed to the plan to protect Lukas in exchange for his friends' freedom. He is 100% unhappy about it, but wants to help his buddies out.**  
 **\- Arthur and Alfred finally got their shit together and GOT TOGETHER (*high-fives USUK shippers*)**  
 **\- Tori has been practising her gifts; the second of which is healing. She is much better at it than she is at bending the earth.**  
 **\- The team on Reycass entered Xi Lan Ey for a second time, and successfully retrieved all of the hard drives. Unfortunately, they were attacked by a Union guard, whom Lukas killed by freezing him. The event left Lukas very shaken, and Arthur and Alfred tried to console him. They are now headed back to Nyma.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Nothing this time save some good old foul language and brief mentions of murder. Enjoy!**

 **Do you know how hard balancing work, writing, uni and a social life is? Do you? DO YOU?**

 **Anyway I love y'all, please REVIEW! UwU (yes im using it ironically awqhgefaxvamn)**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma  
15th Jaune_

Matthias had only agreed to go along with the psychotic plan that the rebels had posed to him a few days ago, but he was already feeling infinitely better than he had in the cell. It made guilt surge up inside, because while he got to enjoy the sunlight and open space, his friends were still cramped together in the dark and the filth.

 _I'm out here to help them_ , he reminded himself, _if I protect the little Fynknian prince, then we all get to go home_. He repeated the sentiment over and over in his mind, but couldn't stop the sheer joy that flooded through his system when he woke in the morning to find clean clothes on the end of his bed. Even the act of showering; once something he had taken almost criminally for granted, was borderline euphoric. He didn't want to go back to being imprisoned, so he took his role as a soon-to-be glorified bodyguard with grace.

Matthias sighed, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. He had noticed his own weight loss over the last two months, but hadn't realised how some of the grime caked into his skin had disguised it. The lines of his face were a lot sharper now, his cheeks a little hollow and his cheekbones more prominent. The dips between the bones of his hands were deeper now, and the outline of his ribs was visible – something that was normally only so visible when he was stretching. He had dark smudges under his eyes indicative both of his lack of sleep and weight loss. His entire body was leaner now, and he couldn't say that he liked the change. His hair was longer too, and a little too haphazard for his liking. He was glad to not have to endure the irritating scrub on his face that had been growing out for weeks, though. The simple joy of not constantly smelling like sweat and must was overwhelming.

That wasn't to say that his newfound freedom was real freedom, though. He had been kept to a tight schedule since he'd been 'freed' from the cell. Ever since he had consented to Yao's insane idea, he had been watched carefully. For the most part, it was the intimidating Daernic general, Octavia, who had been watching over him. She had taken him to get new clothes and toiletries, and had even let him collect his confiscated weapons from their storerooms when he asked. She had locked them securely in a trunk not long after, but Matthias felt better just knowing that they were nearby.

Rather than letting him eat in the large dining pavilion with everyone else, Octavia had retrieved meals for the both of them and eaten with him inside his tent. While they did that, she had quizzed him on different aspects of life and culture on Fynkn. She insisted that it was important for him to know, but he failed to see why. He was there to oversee the Bondevik kid and nothing else. Maybe shoot a gun or two and stop the guy from getting himself killed. He doubted that he would want to stick around after he had done his time.

He doubted that it mattered what the names of the Fynknian gifts were, or any of the random tid-bits about Oskar and Astrid Bondevik that got drilled into his head or whatever in the Galaxy a 'Hellig' was – but he listened and (mostly) committed them to memory anyway. If he was going to go to Fynkn, he might as well have as easy a time as possible. Besides, better to be unchained and talking about the culture of an arctic planet than be alone and confined to his room. He had been given a small tent to live in while he waited for his new companion to get back from whatever mission he was on, and, objectively speaking, it was small, but after spending two months sharing a space just under twice the size with more than ten people, he couldn't care less.

Though Matthias had committed himself to hours of moping and complaining the moment he left the cell, he had found his mood improving every day that he was out of the prison. The fresh air and sunlight and space to move around took the majority of the edge off his irritation. Even Octavia wasn't that bad; she'd eased up on the glares since he'd agreed to the plan, and actually was a good conversationalist. Matthias loved his friends, yes, but that was an area that some of them were severely lacking in.

He had been surprised but a little touched to see that the food they ate in the dining pavilion was exactly the same as what he and his friends had all been given. Evidently, though their treatment hadn't been ideal, the rebels weren't going out of their way to make them miserable.

Matthias groaned quietly, running a hand through his hair before tugging the leather boots that the Resistance had given him onto his feet and started tightening the laces. One thing he would not be thanking the resistance for was their incessant love of interrupting perfectly good sleep cycles. Octavia had taken it upon herself to rouse him from his sleep at 6am each morning, citing the excuse that he had a lot of things to do before he ever set foot on Fynkn. He had no doubt that there was reasoning behind her actions, but that didn't quite excuse the vindictive joy that he saw in her eyes whenever she ripped his covers off and cheerfully told him to get his ass into gear.

He glanced over at the clock that Octavia had nailed to the side-table with the excuse that 'you aren't gonna show up to anything on time if I don't'. 6:30am. He rolled his eyes but stood anyway, giving himself a brief once-over in the mirror before marching out the side of his tent.

Octavia was waiting, as usual, looking impeccable in her grey, three-quarter sleeves shirt, dark pants, boots and brown cargo vest. Her hair was pulled into an updo, as usual, and she was grinning malevolently.

"Have a good sleep?" she asked, tone gently mocking.

"Oh, fuck off." He groaned, dragging his hand across his face. Octavia laughed.

"Deal with it. On Fynkn they operate as a proper military. I'm just preparing you for the early wake up calls you'll get there anyway." Matthias rolled his eyes, but fell into step next to her as she began to walk away.

"Whatever. So, what new hell is on my agenda today?" he asked. Octavia grinned.

"Well, Yao wants to talk to you, first up, and then we have some more combat training and a bit of other stuff we need to go over." Matthias sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to Yao, but he knew that he really didn't have any other choice here.

"Ugh, fine. What 'other stuff' will we be going over?" Octavia grinned.

"Oh, you know, stuff about the royals and social structure on Fynkn. All your favourite things." Actually, on second thought, seeing Yao didn't sound like such a bad thing. The guy was intimidating, and somewhat unnerving, but he was at least engaging.

Octavia laughed at the mildly disgusted look on Matthias' face and jerked her head in the direction that Matthias now knew Yao's tent to be. He sighed, but followed her without further complaint.

Yao's tent looked much the same as it had the previous two times he had been in there, though the files spread across the dark wood desk looked a little messier and more haphazard than they had before. Yao himself was sitting at his chair, one leg folded over the other, eyes flying back and forth across the page of some sort of report. Matthias frowned a little. By the looks of the place and the guy himself, Yao hadn't slept at all last night. His hair was messy, with numerous locks of black hair escaping from his braid, which looked like it needed to have been redone maybe two days ago. His face looked a little pale, but his expression was neutral, and the dark circles under his eyes were minimal. Octavia cocked her head to the side slightly.

"Yao? I brought Køhler to see you." Yao's head snapped up, a more relaxed expression crossing his face.

"Ah, really?" the Yanish man examined his clock curiously. "I suppose I stayed up later than I intended."

"Please tell me that you slept last night." Octavia groaned. Yao threw her a grin; a shockingly bright one for someone that Matthias was fairly sure was insomniac, and waved off her concerns – literally.

"I've survived on no sleep before. Besides, take it as truth or not, but I legitimately don't feel tired." Octavia raised an eyebrow at that, but, as she seemingly inspected Yao and found no obvious signs of extreme fatigue, dropped the issue.

"Alright, but please fix up your hair, Yao. And, maybe change clothes?" Yao glanced down at himself curiously, like he hadn't even realised how rumpled and dishevelled his clothes looked. In the same breath he glanced at a mirror on the wall, mouth twisting wryly as he took in the state of his hair.

"That's fair." He chuckled, pulling his hair out of it's braid. "Octavia, you may stay for this, by the way." Matthias watched as Yao quickly combed his gloved fingers through his long hair before pulling it into a neat high ponytail. Octavia nodded, stance relaxing a little. Yao made eye contact with Matthias.

"Now, Octavia, Mr Køhler, I feel like it is relevant to mention that I have received news from our friends currently _in absentia_." Octavia straightened up, as did Matthias. He cared little for the mission itself, and the prince that he was soon to have to protect, but he had been worried for his friends. Yao observed both of their reactions carefully before he continued. "They have successfully completed their mission and are _en-route_ back here as we speak." Matthias saw Octavia relax in his peripheral vision, and felt some of his own anxiety die down a little. It was a relief to know that his friends were okay.

"I hope that I will get a more in-depth update on that later?" Octavia inquired. Yao smiled slightly and nodded.

"Of course, Vice General. Now, as I am sure you are aware, the success and completion of their mission means that our own agreement will soon come into effect." Yao had an odd manner about him today; something restless and energetic that seemed to have seized his body and mind. The normally collected, aloof man was softly drumming his fingers along the surface of his desk, and his gaze flittered between Matthias and Octavia, never resting on one of them for quite long enough. Matthias frowned. The guy probably wasn't tired because he was hopped up on too much caffeine. Octavia seemed to have come to roughly the same conclusion, and looked exasperated.

"Anyway," Yao continued, looking momentarily like he had to force himself back on topic, "If Lukas consents to the terms I have set, which I highly doubt that he would refuse, I would provide him a few days to recuperate before sending you two off to Fynkn. Now, one important aspect of this which Octavia has yet to mention to you is that, as long as you are on Fynkn, you are to keep Lukas' identity as secret as possible."

Matthias stared at him. "But…wait, what? He's Fynknian fucking royalty, and you don't even want to tell them that he's there? Where's the logic in that?" Yao sighed.

"The biggest weakness that the Fynknian rebel front has is their technology. They have not been able to enjoy the advances made in technology in the last eleven years. The equipment that they have managed to smuggle away from the Union is more rudimentary than what we have here. Fynkn never previously had to fear invasion or espionage or the subtler elements of warfare. Though they have adapted to the physical demands of battle well enough, the more delicate pieces of technology required are still severely lacking." Matthias stared at him, puzzled. Yao sighed.

"They communicate frequently by radios, and there is nothing wrong with that, per se, but the wavelengths they use to communicate are not as hard to break through as we would like. The Union is commonly able to find their frequencies, listen in on their plans or even track down the broadcast signal and deal severe blows to rebel efforts. The Union despises Fynknians with a passion, but their hatred of the average person there does not even come close to expressing how vehemently they despise the Bondevik family in particular." Matthias frowned.

"Well…why? Weren't they just kids when the whole Expansion happened anyway?"

Yao tilted his head. "Yes, but that doesn't stop them. They murdered Lukas and Emilia's parents in cold blood, after all. Their resentment extends to the whole family, regardless of age or actual guilt in any perceived slights. The guards who assassinated the king and queen of Fynkn in 4501 were intending to seek out their children and kill them too."

Matthias was fairly indifferent on this whole matter, and had no real knowledge or legitimate passion for Fynkn save the group of people that had produced his spunky younger sister, but a chill curled around his spine nonetheless. He did the math silently. The Expansion had been eleven years ago, so the prince and princess would have been…eight and five respectively. The idea was mildly nauseating.

"Wait…you said that they intended to kill them…why didn't they?" Yao shrugged, frowning.

"The timeline of what happened on the day that Fynkn was invaded have always been a little foggy…the group sent to kill the royal family succeeded in assassinating the king and queen, but for some reason left the palace and returned over an hour later, after everyone knew what was happening and could get the prince and princess away. No one knows why, but I don't suppose it really matters." Matthias shrugged.

"In any case," Yao said, hands beginning to continue their gentle drumming on the table, "if the Union were to find out that Lukas was on Fynkn, they would redouble their efforts to flush out the rebels. As it is, they are avoiding the Union's full fury through subtlety and a guerrilla warfare approach as opposed to open battlefield tactics. If they were hit by a massive number of the Union's forces, they would either be forced completely underground or wiped out completely. Right now, the Union does not quite consider them a big enough threat to devote too much manpower on them. If Lukas were there and they discovered that, though, their view of the rebels would certainly change." Matthias nodded a little. It made sense. From what he understood of the capabilities of the Bondevik family, the gifts they had were quite powerful, and Lukas was especially.

"Okay, so I can't tell anyone who he is, got it." Yao nodded, looking a little relieved.

"He's going to be going under his existing alias of Lukas Christensen. You will be going as yourself, though we are holding up the charade that you are part of the resistance." Matthias raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, I guess I can deal with that. I have to say, though, you aren't even going to change his first name? Won't people get suspicious of someone the same age and with the same name as their royalty?" Yao smiled a little, and shook his head.

"No, actually. Fynknians adore the Bondevik family like you wouldn't believe. Whenever a member of the royal family is born and named, that name booms in popularity for other children being born. It's the case especially for the firstborn child. I mean, the name Lukas increased in popularity by over 94% after he was born in 4493. We've altered his files to make him two months younger on paper than he actually is, so it can easily be explained away. Lots of people name their children after royals. It's seen by some as bringing luck or favour to that child." Matthias huffed, reluctantly impressed.

"Okay, fine…so he's gonna be Lukas Christensen to everyone on Fynkn, then?" Yao nodded.

"Yes. The name Christensen isn't overtly common, but a far cry from rare or noble as well. It will help him blend in. I'll be telling him to refrain from using his gifts openly, too, of course. That would be a dead giveaway." Matthias nodded along with what Yao said.

"Okay, okay, I think I get it." He murmured. Yao hummed softly, restless fingers shifting to twist the ends of his ponytail.

"You'll get a full briefing when Lukas is back, of course, but those are the basics. Now," he stood from his place to shuffle through some of the other files on his desk, gaze shifting and roving almost too quickly, "I understand that you both have other duties to attend to." Matthias sighed in relief and stood, ready to leave. Octavia hesitated a little, frowning at Yao.

"Yao…" she trailed off as the man turned to face her, eyebrow cocked inquisitively. "…Nothing. I'll see you later." He looked curious, but didn't press the issue, and Matthias followed Octavia out.

* * *

 _Szwicza-Riiko District Border,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
15th Jaune_

Lovino could guess who the hand on his arm belonged to, and that was why he cursed the fact that he actually stopped. He was only a few metres from the barred wall and bare stretch of tarmac that indicated the barrier that separated the Riiko and Szwicza Districts from one another. Riiko was hardly less dangerous or depraved than Szwicza, but even they tried to limit the association between the two.

The barest of glances into his peripheral vision showed him a flash of light olive skin and dark hair. The lithe body attached to the hand wrapped around his forearm was clothed in fitted black. Lovino turned to face the woman that had plagued his footsteps for the last two weeks, and scowled.

"Oh, you. Can I help you with something?" the woman tilted her head to the side a little, gaze roving over him curiously. He had to admit, upon further inspection, that she was rather beautiful. The black accentuated her narrow face, dark, slanted brows and elegant facial structure. Her hair, carefully pulled back into a long braid, was thick and held the signs of being wavy when free. He committed every detail of her face to memory.

She was only a little shorter than him – definitely taller than Feliciano – and her body was built like that of a gymnast. Considering the demands of her profession and it's foundations, that wasn't unexpected. The brown of her eyes was warmer than he had expected. Even her expression was shockingly neutral, bare of malice or even deceit.

"I think you can, actually. May I say first, though, that it is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Lovino" She said, dipping into a low bow. She spoke in the common standard, with a heavy Relusian accent that made the sounds of her vowels shift and curl. Lovino narrowed his eyes. She cleared her throat a little before she continued. "I've been looking for you for quite a while, your majesty."

"I can't say that the feeling is mutual." Lovino spat, ignoring the shudder – one-part horror and another part satisfaction – that ran up his spine when she addressed him by his proper title. "So, tell me, right here and now, _what do you want?"_

She smiled sadly. "I want you and any companions of yours to leave Rela, and never return as long as you should live." Lovino stared at her, stunned for a moment, before remembering himself.

"And why the fuck should I do that?" he snapped in response.

"Because you are a danger to this planet and her people. As someone sworn to protect and serve both of those things, I am only doing my duty."

"Fuck your duty, I haven't done anything to hurt this planet. I'm trying to stay under the radar here." The woman sighed.

"Do you recall, back in mid-Maarch, that the monetary bond on the profiles of all five Free Court heirs increased by approximately 10 billion marks?" Lovino stiffened, keenly tempted to abandon the conversation. He was kept in place only due to his own curiosity.

"I recall, yes. What about it?" he snapped.

"It was increased because of some trouble on Syhvva. More and more rebel groups are popping up there, despite what's at stake. You and your younger brother are a beacon of hope for them, so it is unsurprising that the Union wants you suppressed. They are willing to pay out huge sums of money to get you in their custody." Lovino frowned.

"…When my profile was updated, it also showed information that my brother and I had been on Incanda…do you know how…?" the woman pursed her lips and shook her head.

"I don't know; some outside source looking for a bonus, I'm guessing. I initially sought you out to warn you. Rela and Syhvva were once sisters in arms, and I thought it was only right that I try to lend you aid. However, when I discovered that your place of refuge was in fact Rela…well…you pose a severe danger to any area and its population simply by being there. I am sworn to protect my people, as I would have done had my family not abdicated the throne. I would protect them as you would protect your own people. It is a shame, really. I would have liked to help you, but my home and my people come first."

Lovino clenched his jaw, thinking her words over. She seemed genuine, or at least didn't seem to be openly hostile, but he had never been an overtly trusting person, and he didn't think that he would start now.

"And if we don't leave? We aren't exactly loaded with money, you know. I can't just run around freely like you seem to be able to do." The woman bit her lip.

"I know that, but I want you off this planet."

"And if I don't want to leave?"

She straightened up, and her eyes narrowed a little. Lovino had to resist the urge to step backwards. She practically emanated danger.

"Then you will live with regret for making that decision for the rest of your life, however long that may be. I would recommend heeding my warning, my prince. I will give you one and a half weeks, until the 25th, but after that I want you gone. Take my offer or leave it. Your choice."

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and marched away, leaving Lovino staring after her, stunned and a little impressed, but rather irritated. Like he didn't know how much danger he and Feliciano were in, and how much danger anyway close to them could be. He knew that. He knew it very well. That didn't mean that this girl had the right to make them leave. He shuddered. Lovino had no doubt that she could force them to leave or, as she had implied, remove them as a threat entirely. He didn't really want to face that sort of adversary head-on. Sighing deeply, Lovino turned towards the entrance to the Szwicza District and began to wander back to the apartment slowly, stomach sinking further with every step.

Why couldn't his life ever be easy?

* * *

 _Onboard the LWSS Veritas  
About 90,000 kilometres away from Nyma,  
17th Jaune_

"How much longer, again?" Alfred asked impatiently, gaze roving over the console absently. He wasn't overly well-versed in technology, especially in the area of navigation and mechanics. That was far more Gilbert's area of expertise, or even Louise's. Alfred hadn't had much exposure to vehicles or inter-planetary crafts for the majority of his life, and even now that he used them a fair amount, he wasn't good at operating them or deciphering the lines of code and other messages appearing on the console screen.

Ayshe, who was standing next to him, sighed, looking a little exasperated. Since they had been able to re-enter Xi Lan Ey much earlier than they had anticipated, their arrival back would also, hopefully, be much earlier. "That is what I am trying to figure out, Alfred, if you would allow me a moment to determine just that." Appropriately cowed, Alfred fell silent and watched as Ayshe looked over the monitor. She let out a small hum, then pointed at the screen.

"Okay, well, we're about 90,000 kilometres away from Nyma right now, meaning that we should be passing by Nikat Minor soon." She noticed his look of confusion and smiled. "It's one of Nyma's minor asteroid belts." At his grin and nod of comprehension, Ayshe continued.

"Judging by the average speed of our craft and assuming that we encounter no sort of difficulties in entering the atmosphere or landing at base…we probably have about two hours or so until we arrive. Not long at all." Alfred brightened at this news.

"Oh, okay! That sounds good. Sorry for being so annoying earlier." Ayshe shook her head a little.

"It's fine, Alfred. I understand how irritating it can be to get cooped up in a spaceship for too long. In all honesty, I'm not super fond of long space trips either." Alfred blinked in surprise at her.

"But…you're one of the resistance's admirals…you lead a bunch of space-craft!" Ayshe grinned conspiratorially.

"I know, which is why most people don't know that I dislike travelling in them for too long. Kindly don't spread that around." Alfred laughed.

"I won't, promise. Why do you dislike long space trips?" Ayshe shrugged.

"Well, I was raised on Nyma, I'm sure my appearance and accent can tell you that much, and I spent the vast majority of my childhood running around my village and causing trouble. I lived up in the mountains so climbing came easier than walking to me, and I grew up with very few solid buildings around. Being on a ship, well…it's essentially the opposite. All smooth surfaces and impersonal technology. I was raised outside so being cooped up has never sat well with me." Alfred nodded a little.

"I'm a little claustrophobic in really confined spaces, but that's more because of other stuff. Are you from the Sulig Mountains or somewhere else?" Ayshe smiled a little, obviously reminiscing as she leant against the console casually.

"I am from the Sulig, though I don't go there as much anymore. Some people in my tribe weren't very happy that I chose to join the resistance. It was seen by some as taking a side in a foreign conflict, even though what the Union does has repercussions across the whole Galaxy. I wanted to help other people, so I joined because of that." She frowned a little. "I never asked. I know that you were interested in the resistance because of Matthew, but why else did you join?"

Alfred hummed quietly. "Well, I got interested at first because of Matt, you're right about that, but the more I thought about it, well, the more appealing it was. I've never been a fan of the Union. They've got great policies and everything, yeah, what with trying to open up trade and stuff, and their way of life is also pretty nice, but they're so aggressive about it. They refuse to accept any system that isn't their own. I mean, they started to despise the Free Courts because of a few little legislative disagreements, didn't they?" Ayshe sighed.

"Well, let's just say that the Free Courts had their name for a reason. Slavery was banned in every form on Daerna, Syhvva and Fynkn. Indentured labour was outlawed as well, and their maintenance of labour unions and worker's rights groups was unparalleled. The Union, conversely, gains a great deal of money from allowing the slave trade to continue. To most people inside the Union, slavery is normal and acceptable. To everyone in the Free Courts, it was repugnant. They refused to allow slave traders to pass through trade routes that they owned and maintained, and also passed laws stating that any enslaved person who stepped foot on one of their planets would automatically be granted their full rights and complete freedom."

Alfred blinked. "Damn, they really hated it, didn't they?" Ayshe nodded.

"Oh, hell yeah. The Union ordered all of their slaver groups to stay away from the Free Courts, expecting them to fail economically, but they flourished instead. Slaves saw how good life could be in a place without forced servitude, and it caused a lot of problems in places close to the Free Courts. I guess, after a while, the Union wanted to flex it's muscles and show everyone that it's way of life was superior, no matter how prosperous their competitors were."

"And that was the Expansion?"

"Yup. It was one of the many reasons that it happened, but undisputedly one of them. Add on trade disagreements, aggressive inter-planetary policies and immense tension between delegates and the Laurinaitis, Bondevik and Vargas families and, well, yeah, the Union lashed out." Alfred winced.

"I've heard some pretty horrible things about the Expansion. I mean, I was in Beledent on Rywan when the huge riots happened, but I know a lot of stuff happened everywhere else too." Ayshe winced.

"God, yeah, the Beledent riots were pretty bad, but rumour has it that things were a hundred times worse on the actual Free Courts themselves. There's a lot of misinformation and guesswork about what exactly happened on those planets, but most people seem to agree that a _lot_ of violence was involved. I mean, Lukas and Tori's parents were all murdered, so that gives you an idea."

Alfred was about to open his mouth to ask another question when the console beeped gently. Ayshe turned, looking over it.

"Ahh, I need to signal headquarters and let them know that we're incoming. They need to set up debriefing and a runway for us to land on." Alfred nodded.

"Oh, so you gotta signal a Vice-General or something?" Ayshe's jaw stiffened.

"Actually, Yao told me to alert him directly when we were returning, so I had better signal him." Alfred noted the tension in her frame and frowned.

"You alright? Did Yao piss you off or something?" Ayshe let out a low, humourless laugh.

"He…he's an idiot, honestly. An absolute genius, yes, but also an idiot. I love him to death but-" Ayshe cut herself off, mouth slamming shut as she glanced over at Alfred, immediately giving off the impression of someone who had just said something they hadn't meant to. Alfred smiled softly.

"Well I, uhh, I won't tell him you said that, anyway." Ayshe was silent for another moment before sighing.

"Yeah, I…did _not_ mean to say that." She turned back to the console and tapped out a few sequences, obviously alerting the rebels to their arrival. Ayshe tugged at a few strands of her hair, adjusting her updo as she crossed the space from the console to Alfred. She patted him on the shoulder.

"Be glad, kiddo, that you've found yourself someone willing to talk to you and tell you how they feel. Kirkland, by my observation, anyway, is both taken with you and happy to express it. There's nothing wrong with being private but…"

"But when getting information is like pulling teeth, it's a little aggravating?" Alfred suggested. Ayshe laughed.

"My, my, you are an observant one. And correct, too." She smiled softly at him. "Take care of that caustic pirate of yours. You really bring out his soft side." The admiral moved past him quietly, leaving Alfred alone to reflect on everything that she had said.


	12. A Prince and His Protector

**Whattup y'all, that's right, it is I, back once more with some content for your faces. Not gonna lie, I was a little disappointed that I didn't get any reviews for Chapter 11 (at least as of the posting of this chapter). I get that sometimes people just don't have anything to say, but I was proud of that one :'(**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Matthias has been adjusting to being out of his cell. He learnt that he is meant to keep Lukas' identity secret while they are on Fynkn.**  
 **\- Yao's self-care has been taking a downward turn, with him also suffering from more insomnia.**  
 **\- Lovino encountered Inkar Ahkmetov (Kazakhstan) in the streets. She warned him to leave Rela as soon as possible. She has given him and Feliciano until the 25th to leave before she starts to hunt them down.**  
 **\- Alfred had a sweet little heart-to-heart with Ayshe, and found out that she is in love with Yao (shocking I know). They are rapidly approaching Nyma.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **A few mentions of/references to violence and mutilation, but nothing that really requires tagging**

 **Also, this chapter is dedicated to the remarkable savanedara on Tumblr, who is an excellent human being in every way possible and deserves to be showered in love and affection. You! Are! Amazing! :DDD**

 **I hope you guys enjoy! Please REVIEW! It keeps me alive!**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
17th Jaune_

"And that is why you should always check cannon chambers _before_ you put the heavyweight ammunition inside." Tino finished the story cheerfully as Lukas and Mei stared at him, no small amount of concern writ on their features as they exchanged a mildly disturbed look.

"Because you might kill a pigeon?" Lukas said. Tino nodded.

"Because you might kill a pigeon." He affirmed, tugging more of their tightly packed bags out of the storage units and dumping them on the ground. Lukas and Mei glanced at one another again, dual expressions of _what the fuck?_ plastered in place as they moved forward to help the sniper unpack the ship. Lukas wasn't entirely sure whether he preferred Tino's stories of morbid humour over Ayshe's cool lectures and war stories, but it definitely beat doing work in stony silence with Leon or listening to Arthur's ragged coughing fits.

Lukas located his packs in the mess of bags and slung them across his shoulders. The weight was tough but familiar enough that it wasn't uncomfortable, and he gently rubbed his fingers across the loose threads as he waited for Tino and Mei to also find their things. It felt good to be back on somewhat familiar turf. The mission on Xi Lan Ey had been stressful, and the incident with the guard at their second entry had shaken Lukas a great deal. His sleep had been fitful ever since, and he hoped that he might be able to sleep a little better somewhere that he was familiar with.

The little pep-talks from Arthur and Alfred had helped immensely too. It felt good knowing that his friends didn't look at him differently because of what he had done. He had doubted that people like Arthur and Tino would, but Alfred and the others he had been less sure of.

The more he thought about it, the more it felt like his guilt about the matter had less to do with the fact that he had killed the man and more to do with _how_ he had killed him. The Fynknian _lahjöf_ were sacred, gifts that had been passed down through generations and generations of his forebears. They had been esteemed and held as a sign of the most honoured people on the entire planet. For his father, they hadn't been a party trick to employ whenever it suited him; he had used it only with very careful consideration and discretion. His mother had found their gifts remarkable but had urged Lukas to never overuse them.

They were powerful and sacred, and he had used them to kill someone. There were very few of his ancestors who were known to have done the same, and of those few, most were infamous or outright disliked by the rest of his family.

Perhaps he would end up like his great-great-great-great grandfather, Kormak Bondevik, who was well known by his own people as 'the Butcher King', murdered countless people and had been overthrown and murdered by his own daughter, Eleni, when she was 17 years old. He shuddered a little as some of his self-taught history lessons about their long-term feud and the violent coup that occurred came to mind. Hopefully not.

He trudged back towards the main camp with his bags slung across his shoulders, squinting through the sun. Even though he had generally found Reycass to be unpleasant, the colder weather had made for a nice reprieve from Nyma's unrelenting heat and dryness. Just a few moments under the sun was enough to make him sweat. As someone who had been born, raised and practically _made_ for the cold, he couldn't say that he was loving the return to an eternal summer. He would have killed for a cool breeze or an hour of snow.

Lukas shifted his attention away from the weather as he heard voices up ahead. Glancing to his right, he saw Yao jogging over to the group. He seemed to be visually parsing through their group, until his gaze landed and stuck on Lukas. He felt a shiver go down his spine. Yao's expression was unreadable, but he had an odd energy about him that didn't sit quite well with Lukas. Perhaps Ayshe had told him about what had happened at Xi Lan Ey and he was angry at Lukas for using his gifts. Maybe he had decided that it wasn't wise to involve Lukas in missions and high-stakes assignments anymore. He felt dread claw at the pit of his stomach.

And yet, even as Lukas' mind began to wander down concerned paths, Yao didn't appear angry. If anything, he looked happier and happier as they approached. By the time Lukas was within earshot, Yao's mood seemed to have flipped so dramatically it was jarring. The Yanish man was smiling, but the way he was smiling looked like he was just barely containing himself. He looked remarkably excited, especially considering that the mission hadn't gone as well as it could have, with a surprising amount of energy about him. His whole demeanour, while obviously positive, seemed a little out-of-character. Lukas frowned, just catching Tino blinking and looking a little baffled in his peripheral vision as Yao came up to them.

"You're all back!" he exclaimed, still smiling. No one save Lukas, Tino and Ayshe seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary. Arthur grunted in response and Alfred grinned, looking excited and cheerful. Ayshe nodded.

"Yes, and mostly successful, as well." Ayshe was smiling, but Lukas could see some underlying caution in her expression. "You seem very happy." Yao smiled.

"Well, we've acquired a huge amount of information to use against the Union. I feel I have the right to be pleased about that." Ayshe nodded.

"I assume that you want us to head to debriefing, then?" she said. Yao hummed lowly, gaze jumping from Ayshe to the rest of them to their ship and back again. Lukas frowned. It wasn't bad to see Yao have so much energy for once, but it was definitely unusual. He wondered if their success was fuelling it, or something else.

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea, though, Ayshe." His gaze finally settled on her, his expression softening minutely – just enough for someone with Lukas' abilities of emotional perception to pick up on. "I wish to speak to you first. Also, Lukas, I need to talk to you after debriefing, as well." Lukas stiffened at this, but nodded regardless. Ayshe was looking over Yao carefully, lips pursed before her fondness for him obviously won out and she nodded as well. Lukas saw Alfred grin when that happened, and frowned. What on earth was he so happy about?

Forcing the issue out of his mind – it really wasn't any of his business anyway – he followed the others towards the debriefing tent.

* * *

Ayshe followed Yao back to his tent, trying to ignore the small questions gnawing at the back of her mind as she stepped over the vast roots of the dragon trees. She was tired, of course, but any conversation with Yao automatically overruled her desire for rest, at least in terms of importance. Her was her boss, so she had to prioritise his commands and plans over her own sleep, though he would vehemently disagree with that. The one thing that she really hated, though, was that when she went along with what he wanted without thinking, it was only in part due to her being his underling.

She cursed herself internally for spilling to Alfred yesterday. She got the impression that he wouldn't spread around what she had said – he seemed like a genuine kid, and had certainly been sincere when he had promised to keep it secret – but it was still stupid of her to have said it. She had been exhausted, and had forgotten to filter her words. It was something that she obviously had to work on. Exposing any sort of weakness was extremely unwise, not to mention dangerous.

 _At least I didn't spill that little tidbit in front of Yao,_ she thought. Now _that_ would have been a real disaster. Yao was, as she liked to say, a genius, but also a complete idiot. It was endearing in a way, but endlessly frustrating in another. There were countless times that she would have thought that he was flirting with her, but he was so naturally charismatic that she had no real way of knowing. Ayshe certainly wasn't about to go and ask. She would never try to push her own feelings onto someone else, especially if they were unrequited.

She stepped under Yao's arm as he held the curtained door open for her, murmuring her thanks. She didn't hesitate to move over to his bed and sit down on it. They had spent so many hours talking away in this tent that she no longer needed an invitation to sit. Yao smiled softly, his energy a little more toned down than it had been at the airfield, as he moved to sit on the edge of the low table nearby.

They maintained a comfortable for a few moments, before Ayshe chose to speak up. "So, I assume that you want to know about the mission, then?" Yao hesitated a moment, before he smiled softly and shook his head.

"No, not really, I…I wanted to apologise to you, actually." Ayshe blinked in shock.

"Apologise?" he nodded.

"I hurt you, before you left. I really didn't mean to, but you know that I've never been good at dealing with things like that. I didn't even give you the dignity of explaining myself. I just sent you away so I could stop feeling guilty." Ayshe looked down. It was such a small thing, such a petty thing to be upset over. She recalled the night clearly; they had been discussing Xi Lan Ey, and she had placed her hand over his, but it hadn't taken him long to pull away. She had no right to be upset; no right to act like it was something he had to do or should even feel compelled to do. The fact that he had been distant since hadn't helped with her guilt, though, so hearing him apologise hurt a little.

"No, no, Yao…you have so much on your plate, I really shouldn't expect you to cater to my feelings. You don't have the time to worry about whether or not you've hurt me. You shouldn't take time out of your day to think about that." Yao looked at her.

"But I _want_ to, Ayshe. I care about what you think and how you feel, and I'll gladly take time out of my day for that." She drew in a breath, warmth spreading through her chest at his words. Yao's eyes were so warm and kind that she had to look away, out of fear that she would stare into them forever. He sighed gently. "Things…are about to change. I made plans while you were away." Ayshe looked up.

"What sort of plans?" she asked. Yao smiled wryly.

"I'm going to send Lukas to Fynkn." He said quietly. "It's risky, but I feel like it can work." Ayshe stiffened a little, but quickly relaxed again, sighing.

"I'm sure you have the whole thing mapped out." She murmured. "Why now, though?" Yao shrugged, eyes angled down as he slowly reached across the small gap between them and gently took her hand.

"I guess I'm just feeling a little impulsive this week." He murmured, gently interlacing their fingers. Her heart skipped a beat as she briefly considered whether or not she should try to do what her mind was urging. It could ruin the moment, of course, but…

She gently reached over, and tugged the edge of Yao's glove down a little. He cocked his head slightly, head lowering a little even as his eyes met hers. They held eye contact for a moment before he reached down. She withdrew her hand, afraid that she had offended him, only to feel relieved as he slowly peeled his left glove off, revealing the horrific, skinless mess of his left hand. He considered his hand for a moment, as if analysing it. Ayshe reached out again and took his hand, interlacing their fingers without care for the rough and bizarre feel of his exposed muscles, bones and tendons. He relaxed a little, the tension slowly bleeding from his shoulders.

"I don't deserve you, you know." He murmured. A small smile graced his lips as she looked up at him, and she let out a small huff of air.

"You deserve to get what you want, no matter who or what that is." She said earnestly. Yao was still for a moment, before smiling again.

"Good," he said, grip tightening ever so slightly, "because I am rather fond of you."

Her breath caught a little, and she leaned forward slightly, leaning her forehead against his.

"I'm glad that I'm not alone in that sentiment." She confessed softly. He smiled again. They stayed like that for a long moment, before Ayshe sighed, filled with regret, and pulled away. "I should get to debriefing." Yao sighed.

"Yes, I suppose you should." Ayshe hesitated by the door. While she was delighted that he seemed to be displaying feelings similar to her own, his earlier behaviour _had_ been odd, and she had completely forgotten to ask him about it.

"Yao…are you alright?" she had to try hard to not avert her gaze when he made eye contact again. He shrugged, looking a little unsure.

"I've just been feeling a little impulsive recently." He repeated, turning away. "You do have debriefing to get to, Ayshe." She hesitated, almost wanting to apologise and take his hand again, but fully aware of the fact that he would likely reject her for it. She dipped her head a little, and quickly left his tent, missing the somewhat worried look that crossed over Yao's face as she turned her back.

* * *

By the time Ayshe trudged into the debriefing room, Lukas had already listened to Leon explain the bulk of what Team A had done at Xi Lan Ey, and had finished with the rehashing of his own experience on the mission. He glanced over at Ayshe as she came in, expression mildly troubled. Lukas frowned. He wanted to ask, or even poke around inside her head to see what had happened with Yao, but he didn't want to violate her privacy like that. He respected and liked Ayshe a great deal, and judging by the way she and Yao interacted with one another, the conversation could have been very personal.

He turned away from her, eyes returning to Leon as the teen finished his explanation of his and Ayshe's second infiltration of Xi Lan Ey. The admiral took a seat near Lukas quietly, looking a little pensive. Lukas pushed his growing curiosity out of his mind and focussed on Alfred's explanation of his and Arthur's infiltration of the lower levels. Lukas wasn't surprised that Alfred had elected to take up the task of explaining, given how reticent and stubborn Arthur was when it came to debriefing. Lukas was fairly certain that the pirate was only in the debriefing room because Alfred had turned on the charm and begged him to come.

Ayshe pitched in on occasion to clarify details and give her own overview of the mission as a whole. As the commander who had overseen the entire operation, her input was valuable, so they spent the better half of the next thirty minutes listening to her own report. Lukas let his mind wander as Gilbert and Mei explained their role in tandem. Yao had said that he wanted to talk to him, but hadn't exactly specified what it was about. It was enough to make him a little concerned. He knew that Yao was unlikely to be truly angry – apparently, Lukas was yet to see him as such, and should be very glad of that – but he was wasn't exactly keen to deal with his disappointment either. He slumped down a little in his chair as they wrapped up their debriefing, staring firmly ahead with his jaw set harshly. Tino shot him a concerned look, but he shrugged it off.

Their debriefer – Aelia Gabras – tapped her fingers against the table she had been leaning against. "Well, I think that that's everything, if no-one had anything else to-"

The curtain behind her was whipped open, and Yao strode through, looking around sharply before his gaze settled on Lukas.

"Good, you're here. Are you done, Aelia?" Aelia blinked, looking a little taken aback before she nodded.

"Yes, but, um, Yao-"

"I'll need to appropriate this room for a little while. I'm sorry, Aelia, but it is necessary." He said, tone apologetic. "If everyone save Lukas can leave, I'd be appreciative." Tino stood from his seat and booked it out of the room immediately, a soldier to the very end. Mei and Leon exchanged a look, shrugged, and left as well. Arthur, looking supremely disinterested, moved to leave, before pausing and looking at Alfred expectantly – he was waiting for him. Alfred evidently realised this as well, and grinned hugely before bounding over to Arthur's side and following him out. Gilbert grabbed his bag – he had been too lazy to go to his tent first – and also left, throwing up a sarcastic peace sign as he exited.

Ayshe hesitated, looking at Yao curiously as Aelia left. Yao looked over at her, expression softening like it always did when she was in his line of sight.

"You can stay, of course, Ayshe." She relaxed, smiling softly before she took a seat not far from Lukas, who was still locked up with dread. Yao pulled a small communicator from his pocket. "Octavia, if you could bring both Køhler and yourself to Tent 36 as quickly as possible? Thank you." He dropped the communicator back into his pocket, folding his arms behind his back and scrutinising Lukas. "While we wait for some others to join us, I would like to discuss what happened at Xi Lan Ey."

Lukas groaned, head slumping back onto his shoulders. "I know that I shouldn't have used my gifts, okay, I know, but-"

"Are you okay?" Yao interrupted, watching him carefully. Lukas' mouth slammed shut as he blinked in confusion. Yao continued. "I heard from Ayshe that you were rather shaken up by the whole incident, and I want to know if you are afraid that it will affect you long-term."

"I…" Lukas trailed off. "I was just shocked, in a way. I feel more guilty about the fact that I used my gifts to kill someone than I do about committing the murder itself." Yao hummed, leaning forward a little.

"Why, exactly?" Lukas shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his jacket.

"Well…he was going to kill Alfred…probably more than just him, actually, if I hadn't done what I did. I just…I regret that I had to resort to my gifts to kill him. They're supposed to be sacred, as stupid as that sounds…" Yao shook his head lightly.

"It's not stupid at all, but, Lukas, I must ask, how much of your own family's history do you know?" Lukas looked up, puzzled.

"Quite a lot. Why?"

"Well, are you the first person in your family who used their gifts to kill?"

"Well…no…"

"That's right. Numbers of your ancestors did the same. Queen Laksand, King Mjirnis, Princess Sofya…"

"Kormak the Butcher." Lukas shot back. Yao nodded.

"Oh, yes, he was a piece of work. And he was killed by his daughter, Eleni, in order to bring his reign of terror to an end. My point is, Lukas, sacred they might be, but using the _lahjöf_ to kill is neither rare nor as bad as you seem to think. I am not trying to undermine your beliefs in regards to your own abilities. Saints know you know a lot more about them than I do, but you shouldn't feel guilty. You killed to save a life, and I feel like the old Fynknian saints would not disapprove of that." Lukas sighed, nodding a little. Yao hummed.

"I've been meaning to ask, but I've never really known how to broach the subject…how much of your culture have you actually managed to hold onto?" Yao asked, tone inquisitive. Lukas shrugged.

"I still remember a lot, I mean…Emilia and I tried to stay connected to our home even though we weren't there, but I don't really know how well we managed that, objectively speaking." Yao nodded slowly as he processed what Lukas was saying.

"I see…my question is, in relation to Fynknian people who have remained on Fynkn their whole lives, would you stand out in comparison?" Lukas shrugged, starting to feel a little frustrated.

"How the hell would I know?" he snapped. "And why does it matter?" Yao smiled, reached under the desk, and picked something else. He tossed it to Lukas, who caught it awkwardly and turned it over in his hands, frowning.

"Boots?" he asked. "I mean, thanks? But why are you giving me these?" he examined them. They were a little taller than he was used to wearing, coming to maybe his mid-calf. They were made of thick, strong black leather, with very thick insulation and tight black laces. The grooves on the bottom were very deep and bizarrely layered. Yao was smiling.

"Those are Venkater boots. They're very well-made ones, too, so do take care of them. They're designed to insulate while also remaining very pliable and easy to move in. The soles are designed to have a strong grip while also preventing the grooves from getting cluttered up with sediment from the ground. They're very well-liked around here, of course, though this isn't exactly the environment for them." Lukas raised an eyebrow. Both Yao and Ayshe were exchanging small looks.

"I don't follow." He said. Yao's expression turned a little pensive and expectant.

"They work best in ice and snow. They're originally from Rinka on Fynkn, so they are the best that you're gonna get." Lukas stared at him. Yao stared back, looking a little amused. "Well, you could look a little more excited. If you find a pair of shoes that can tread in snow better than those, sue me." Lukas frowned a little, confusion rising as he felt his heart start to race just a little.

"Well what good are snow boots to me?" Yao rolled his eyes.

"Not now, of course. They'll be more useful on Fynkn, so don't go wearing them down just yet."

Lukas jerked so roughly that he nearly dropped the boots on the ground. He could feel that his eyes were ridiculously wide, and that his expression was probably frozen into a look of burgeoning hope, but he didn't particularly care. Yao smiled softly, and took a seat nearby.

"You…you made a very good point, when you said that you would be more useful in the field than sitting around here on Nyma. I thought it about it a lot, and, well, if you were going to go anyway, I would want you to go home. Fynknians look out for each other, especially in the case of the rebels. You would be safe, or at least safer there than any other active warzone. I know I'm not always a good listener, but I think I managed okay this time." Lukas was still silent and gawking at Yao, his mind failing to catch up with what he was hearing.

"You…you're actually…" he stammered out, unable to get over his shock. Yao nodded.

"I've chosen to send you to Fynkn to fight." Yao confirmed. "You're capable enough that I trust you with that now. However," he held a hand up as Lukas went to speak again, "regardless of what you think of your position or importance or even your perceived expendability, you are not disposable in the slightest. I want to know that you will be protected, directly, and fairly well. For that reason, I'm going to be sending someone with you. Their mission is to keep watch of you and make sure you don't act too recklessly or get into a life-or-death situation. I do trust you, Lukas, I do, but I do not trust everyone on Fynkn, so for that reason, it is necessary. You can either go to Fynkn with a protector, or stay here without one. It's your choice."

Lukas exhaled. He wasn't keen at the idea of being watched like a hawk or looked after by some glorified bodyguard, but at the same time…he couldn't stand not doing something for his planet and his people. Even if he was being ghosted by some elite fighter, it was better than sitting idle. He sighed.

"I…I'll go to Fynkn. Bodyguard included." He said murmured. Yao smiled softly.

"I guessed that you would say that." He said, just as voices began to filter into the tent from inside. "Now, in doing this, I must warn you, I am killing two birds with one stone. You get to go to Fynkn and fight-" the curtain behind him opened, revealing Octavia hauling along a tall, disgruntled blonde behind her, "and Mr Køhler here has the opportunity to win his friends' freedom." He turned back to Lukas. "I hope you don't object."

It was then that Lukas recognised the tall man. He was one of the bounty hunters that had been taken captive. One of the ones that had been present when the clever assassin had figured out his identity. The bounty hunter who – he recalled, as the man raised his head a little and shifted his face more into the light – had even gone so far as to attempt to flirt with him. Lukas scowled a little, folding his arms as he threw the bounty hunter a somewhat unimpressed look.

"I mean…it could be worse." The bounty hunter scowled at him, and Lukas decided that, just this once, he would allow his petty streak to shine. "Not much worse, but still." Yao sighed, Octavia snorted and Ayshe grinned. The bounty hunter was looking him up and down, obviously scrutinising him. Lukas shifted a little, somewhat uncomfortable under the unfamiliar man's gaze, but quickly returned the sentiment.

The guy was tall, first off – maybe 6'2'' or so – which put him at almost half a foot taller than Lukas. He had a somewhat heavier build, too, with shoulders much broader than Lukas. Lukas shrugged it off. He'd never cared much for height or body type. His only concern was the potential disparity between their physical capabilities. The last thing he wanted was to be less apt than a damned bounty hunter who clearly didn't want to be involved in the situation.

The guy was fairly handsome, that he had to admit, with his wild golden hair, dark blue eyes and a strong jawline to boot. Lukas noted his frame, and realised with a pang that the guy was noticeably thinner than he had been when they'd first interacted in Maarch. Clearly, imprisonment had not agreed with him. He felt the smallest sliver of sympathy for the guy, but not enough for him to overlook the obvious discontent that the guy was feeling.

"This gentleman is Matthias Køhler, the leader of the little band of bounty hunters that we incarcerated. I've promised him that if he protects you and looks out for you on Fynkn until I say so, I will free his friends." Lukas glanced over at Yao, a little alarmed. He was going to free all of the criminals they had been holding? Even though they knew about him? Yao gave him a look, one which clearly said _trust me on this_. Lukas sighed, but nodded.

"Yeah, and you'd better deliver on that promise if I have to escort this infant everywhere." Lukas scowled.

"I'm sorry, infant?" he snapped. "I'm quite clearly not a child." The bounty hunter – Køhler – smirked.

"You seem to whine like one enough, so I thought it was fitting." Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Well, I might not be an infant, but you appear to have the maturity of one."

Køhler cocked his head to the side. "Funny, I thought you grew up out of the palace?" Lukas frowned, irritation rising.

"I did, primarily. What does that have to do with anything?"

"I'm just saying, if you didn't grow up in the palace, why do you act like you have every silver spoon in the system shoved up your ass?" Lukas looked over at him sharply, anger beginning to bubble below the surface.

"Well that's still better than acting like I was raised by a pair of starved dogs."

Køhler grinned and put his hands on his hips. "Well, well then, you have quite the tongue on you. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Lukas rolled his eyes.

"No, she's dead. But I'll happily call you out on your bullshit with it." The bounty hunter whistled.

"I didn't know that they taught children to curse so young."

"I'm nineteen years old you insufferable _ass_ -"

"You're _nineteen_?" the blond exclaimed, cutting him off mid-insult. "You're shitting me." Lukas scowled.

"What, do you want my fucking birth certificate or something? Yes, I'm nineteen." Køhler raised an eyebrow.

"Fucking how? You look about sixteen." Lukas sighed, completely and utterly done with the conversation.

"Oh, chronic malnutrition and poverty, I guess." The bounty hunter frowned at him a little, but didn't retort with another sharp comment. Lukas seemed to have legitimate cowed him.

"Are you two done? Or….?" Lukas froze, at that moment remembering that he and the bounty hunter weren't alone in the room. He turned to look at his three superiors. Yao had his head in his hands and Octavia looked very exasperated. Ayshe, the one who had asked the question, looked a little like someone drowning on dry land. He chose not to answer, disregarding Køhler's amused snort from behind him. Yao heaved a huge sigh.

"Well, I must admit, I don't think anyone has ever made me regret an idea so much so quickly. Two minutes; that must be some kind of record. Well done, you two." Lukas felt a stab of apprehension go through him.

"I…this doesn't mean that I can't go anymore, does it?" he murmured. Yao sighed.

"Oh, of course you're still going. It looks like you're both in for an unpleasant trip, but you're both still going. You leave tomorrow at noon, so you might want to try and get along a little better before then." Lukas frowned, displeasure increasing when he saw the smirk on the bounty hunter's face. The man saw him looking and winked again.

"Oh, don't worry darling, I'll keep you safe." He purred, tone mocking to the last. Lukas scowled.

"I feel like us spending more time together isn't wise, considering that I'm already restraining myself from shoving these new boots up his ass." Lukas growled. The bounty hunter laughed, but he didn't fail to notice that the taller man also took a half-step backwards.

"So hostile." He teased.

"Oh, just you wait-"

"Lukas." He cut himself off, looking over at Yao's disapproving frown. The bounty hunter huffed.

"Do I really have to take care of this bratty little kid?" he asked, tone irritated. Lukas was dying inside to snap back at him, but he restrained himself. Yao already didn't seem that impressed with his behaviour thus far, and the last thing he wanted was to be seen as too immature to go to Fynkn.

"Yes." Yao snapped, frowning at the guy. "Now, if you two would stop snarking at each other, I need to explain what is actually going to happen when you are on Fynkn." They both fell silent. Yao sighed. "Okay, thank you. Now, things are going to be a little complicated when you are on Fynkn, so bear with me here." He eyed them carefully, and when they maintained their silence, continued.

"Tomorrow, you two are both going to be departing for Fynkn. A few other Fynknian rebels who were briefly trained and housed here will be going with you, along with a lot of supplies. The rebels have a constant stream of new recruits coming in, so you two won't stand out too much. We are also known for sending the occasional soldier to bolster their forces. Matthias, that is what you will be pretending to be." The blond wrinkled his nose a little but didn't speak.

"You are both aware of the sort of climate that Fynkn has to offer, I'm sure. It is a primarily mountainous environment, which can be very difficult to navigate and survive, much less fight in. The rebels take a guerrilla warfare approach, which helps somewhat, but it is still a challenging place to be. It is customary that the rebels train anyone that joins their cause looking to fight, both for combat and survival reasons. You two will not be exempt from that when you arrive. I'm not sure how long that preliminary training takes, but given your respective skill levels, I would wager that you two would be kept in training for no longer than a month or so. When that training ends, most recruits are placed in pairs and then assigned to squads which then do reconnaissance, rescue, supply runs and combat." Yao eyed them.

"Lukas, I will need to you to convince them to place Matthias and yourself into a pair. There's no point in me creating this plan if you two are only together for a month." Lukas clenched his jaw but nodded. The bounty hunter was looking at him curiously, gaze unreadable. Yao straightened up. "After that, well, I expect you two to work as a team. Matthias, your only job here is to protect Lukas. Lukas, your job is to try and tolerate Matthias' presence." Yao ignored the blond's irritated protests at that and ploughed onwards.

"Now, I am expecting you two to try and act at least civilly towards each other. I don't care if you don't agree on every last thing, but I am asking that you afford one another a certain degree of mutual respect. You both have reasons for being involved here, and I want you to acknowledge that." Lukas sighed, but nodded anyway.

"Now, the leader of the Fynknian Rebel Front is a former military researcher named Galina Hansen. She is a formidable woman and truly a force to be reckoned with. She built the Fynknian rebellion from the ground up. She is also determined to see Fynkn restored to it's former state. Her commitment and bravery are very commendable, and most Fynknians see her as their best hope of beating the Union." Lukas could hear the admiration in Yao's voice as he spoke.

"I haven't seen her in about five years, but she isn't the type to change much. From what I remember, she will do anything to protect the royal family or anything affiliated with them. Unfortunately, this would put quite the dent in your plans to fight, Lukas, since she would be fiercely against allowing you to fight." Lukas' heart sank a little. Yao noticed his alarm and rushed to reassure him.

"That being said, I want to at least give you the chance to prove your worth in a battlefield, so we're going to have to lie a little to Commander Hansen." Lukas blinked, realising what Yao was saying.

"I'm going under an alias again?" Yao nodded.

"Yes. You'll go under the guise of Lukas Christensen again, the same alias you use here. We've spent a good amount of time adding to your files and information in order to make you as believable as possible. As I have already explained to Matthias here, Lukas became a much more common name after you were born, so it is not too incriminating. To maintain that façade, of course, you will also be pretending to be a bit younger than you actually are. I think you can do it because, as Matthias said more bluntly earlier, you do look a little younger than you are, so again, it shouldn't be a hard deception to manage." Lukas nodded, still feeling a little prickly about that. Yao eyed them both carefully. "I don't want to give you two too much information, since most recruits are not well-versed about rebel life or their leadership. Galina Hansen is the one figure that everyone knows of, but other than that, most rebels with significant influence stay under the radar." Yao clapped his gloved hands together. "Okay, any questions?"

Lukas shook his head, and the bounty hunter also stayed silent. Yao nodded. "Good. You have tonight to pack your warmest clothes and anything else that you might want. This placement could shape up to be a long one." Lukas didn't miss the way that Køhler's mouth jerked at that – it clearly wasn't something that he was hoping for.

"Get a lot of sleep, you two. You'll need it." They nodded, the bounty hunter looking distinctly more glum than Lukas as he was shepherded out of the tent by Octavia. Ayshe was smiling softly, and raised her hand in farewell as she also slipped outside. Lukas hesitated.

"Yao…" the man looked up, gaze curious.

"Yes, Lukas?" he said. "Do you object to the plan?" Lukas opened his mouth to speak, but found no appropriate words to say. He rocked backwards and forwards on his feet before his gratitude overwhelmed his pride and he darted forward to hug Yao around the middle.

"Thank you." He said, voice muffled somewhat from where part of his mouth was pressed against Yao's jacket. Yao was still, clearly unsure how to handle the situation.

"I…" Lukas felt Yao's hands cautiously land on his upper back, before the older man relaxed into the motion a little and hugged him back. "I'm glad that you're happy." Lukas sighed. He knew that it was strange of him – he was technically hugging his boss, after all – but the gesture felt so familiar and _familial_ that he couldn't help himself. Hugging Yao reminded him of how his own father would wrap him up tight in his arms and swing him around when he was a child.

He reluctantly pulled away, averting his gaze. He could see Yao smiling at him gently in his peripheral vision.

"I meant it, you know, when I said that you would need some sleep." Yao said, effortlessly breaking the silence and easing the building awkwardness. Lukas nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I know, I know."

* * *

Lukas Bondevik was…interesting. Peculiar? Matthias shook his head as he shifted through his clothes, picking out anything long sleeved or warm and setting them aside. He didn't exactly know what words would be best to describe the prickly young prince. He certainly wasn't like what Matthias had expected.

Regardless of the Expansion and it's repercussions, a part of him had expected a stuck up kid stuffed to the brim with his own self-importance. But in real life? The kid seemed a little grouchy and proud, but he didn't have the ridiculous airs of arrogance that even low-ranked lords that Matthias had met in the past seemed to have.

It was stupid of him to have expected someone who was royal in terms of behaviour as well as bloodline, especially given that he hadn't been raised in that environment for most of his life. Not to mention, Tori was nothing like that, and she was royalty as well. She had the whole retrograde amnesia thing going on as well, but regardless.

The guy wasn't…overly unpleasant. He was witty, that was for sure, and had a quick reaction time, but he didn't seem like someone that Matthias would outright despise. If he was being completely honest, Matthias thought that he might have taken some of his anger about the situation he was in out on the prince. Maybe he would apologise for it later. Maybe.

He evaluated a pair of thickly-insulated boots that he had rarely worn before decisively placing them in the luggage pile. Octavia had warned him about the temperature range on Fynkn, and it wasn't exactly promising. Matthias did love the cold, but even he demanded that it be in moderation. Fynkn was essentially a winter wonderland all year round. The only place on the entire planet that ever got hot was the very north pole. It was there that Ivaana was from. Her tribe were the only people on the whole planet that didn't have starkly pale skin and white hair.

His thoughts drifted to the prince again. He screamed 'Fynknian' with every fibre of his appearance. From the fair skin, untouched by a tan despite him apparently having lived on Nyma for months now, to the white hair and dark blue eyes, he stuck out sorely. The guy wasn't unpleasant to look at; rather the opposite, actually, but it interested Matthias to see how he differed from Ivaana. His little sister had olive skin, light brown hair and pale blue eyes. But then, the Hrinnskél people were an anomaly on Fynkn.

Sighing, Matthias took a seat on his bed. He had always hoped that his sister would get to go back to her home planet one day. It felt wrong that he got to see it before she did. He sighed. He didn't want to be a teenager's bodyguard, or a soldier for the Fynknian rebels, but he was doing this to free his friends. As long as he could get them out of the prison that they were stuck in, this would all be worth it.

Hopefully.

* * *

Lukas had just about finished packing when Kari came into his tent. He looked up, caught sight of the drawn look on her face, and knew immediately that she knew what he was doing. He paused, gently putting down the clothes he had been holding. She looked completely lost, and unsure of how to begin.

"Kari-"

"You'll be fine, won't you?" he paused, unsure of how to respond. The way she said it, it sounded both like a question and like she was trying to reassure herself of it.

"I…I'll try my best." He said weakly. Kari's hands were shaking slightly.

"I've been on Fynkn, before, as a fighter. Most people there know who I am, actually. It…Lukas, it is not a pleasant place to go, not anymore. The sorts of things that the Union does to our people…it's…I don't want you to have to see those sorts of things." She clasped her hands together. "I don't want you to be in danger."

"Kari…" he said gently. "I…I'm not eight years old anymore."

She drew in a shaky breath, then laughed. "No, you aren't, are you?" she looked away. "God, I am being stupid, aren't I? You, you can fight, you can take care of yourself. I know that. You did that for years without any help from anyone. Now you'll even have someone to keep you safe, but I'm still being stupid and getting worried about this." He swallowed and reached out to her a little.

"No, Kari, you're not…" she raised her head, eyes glittering with unshed tears, then moved forward and wrapped him tight in a hug.

"Keep yourself alive, okay? That's all I need you to do. Please just keep yourself alive for me."

Lukas nodded. "I…of course. I'll be back in a few months, I swear." Kari sniffed, grip tightening a little. After a minute or two, Kari detached herself from him, smiling weakly.

"You need some help packing?" she asked, voice husky.

Lukas smiled gently, and nodded.

* * *

 _Oslaholm, Fynkn,  
13th Janwir, 4498CC  
(14 years ago)_

 _Astrid gently combed her hands through her son's hair, looking up fearfully at the woman with the measuring device clasped in her hands. The reading was still displayed on the screen, easy for them all to see. The woman was staring at Lukas with an expression of open curiosity and amazement. Astrid tightened her grip on him ever so slightly. It was the smallest of movements, but was obviously enough to catch the woman's attention. She stiffened, turning away with a murmured apology._

 _Astrid glanced over at Oskar, who looked more pensive and drawn than she had ever seen him, gaze fixed resolutely on the number on the screen; 1,847._

 _"It shouldn't be possible." He murmured, breaking the almost complete silence in the room. "If his score outdoes even King Delmar's-"_

 _"It could explain the appearance of the Hellig last month, your majesty." The woman said gently. "Such power would easily draw in such creatures." Oskar hummed._

 _"Mind how you refer to them." He said, tone gentle rather than disparaging. The woman straightened up, paling a little, and nodded._

 _"I meant no offence." She said. Oskar shook his head._

 _"I know, and you didn't not offend me. I meant it only as a point of reference for the future." He sighed, rolling his shoulders. Astrid frowned. His left scapula hadn't been the same since he had fractured it a few years ago, and she could tell that it was troubling him again. "What exactly does this mean for our son, Corporal?" the woman blinked._

 _"The scale is a measure of aggregate power only. I won't lie, 1,847 is a very high score, a record-maker, in fact, but if the Hellig are drawn to him, it is not solely because of the strength of his gifts, but rather other factors in his personality and spirit which may be emerging. The bond between a Hellig and a Bondevik is a spiritual one, after all." Oskar nodded._

 _"What details were you given about the Hellig that entered the palace, Corporal?" the woman hummed._

 _"Not much, your majesty. I know only that it did no harm to anyone in the palace." Oskar nodded._

 _"Were you also told that that very same Hellig spent an hour entertaining my son in the palace gardens?" the woman looked astonished._

 _"I did not know that, your majesty."_

 _"And were you told that the Hellig which acted so vastly out of character was Vidunder, well known as the most violent of the nine and the most reclusive of them all, save Formynder herself?" the woman had gone white._

 _"No, your majesty, I was not informed of that." Oskar hummed again, rolling his shoulder once more. Astrid frowned, but didn't say anything._

 _"What is your take on that? Why would they come here?" the woman hesitated._

 _"I hesitate to make assumptions, your majesty, but I might guess that it would be in part due to legitimate interest on their parts."_

 _Astrid sucked in a breath, hugging her four-year-old son even closer. He looked up at her, blue eyes wide with childlike wonder and confusion. She smiled warmly at him, combing his fluffy white hair off his forehead and praying that the slight tremor in her hand wasn't noticeable._

 _"Would you recommend taking action on this, Corporal?" the woman hesitated._

 _"I…I would not, your majesty. It is not wise to rush instances such as this. It may just be idle interest. Making the assumption that they find him worthy could even be seen as insulting, and I would recommend you avoid doing such a thing." Oskar nodded, sighing._

 _"Very well. Thank you for your time, Corporal. This has been enlightening." The woman nodded, bowing deeply._

 _"It is my honour, your majesty." She took her leave quietly, scooping the machine from the tables as she left. The door shut silently as Astrid picked Lukas up and propped him on her hip as she made her way to her husband's side._

 _"Everything will be okay, Oskar." She said, gently tapping on his shoulder. "It's nothing to worry about." Oskar sighed, leaning back a little and staring up at her adoringly._

 _"I wish I had your self-assuredness." He murmured. "I hope this doesn't get out of hand." Astrid nodded._

 _"That Corporal seems genuine. She won't spread this around, and our staff wouldn't dare do it either." Oskar nodded._

 _"I suppose you're right." His expression brightened as he looked over at Lukas, who still looked very confused by the conversation that was happening. "Is your arm okay now?" Lukas pouted, rubbing at his arm where the needle had pierced it just a few minutes ago. Astrid could never get over how quiet and cooperative a child he was. Emilia would kick and screen at the first sign of something she didn't like, but Lukas was remarkably level-headed, for a four-year-old._

 _"Yes papa, but I'd feel better with some sweet cakes." He sent Oskar a sidelong glance that made him laugh. The king of Fynkn smiled, all tension leaving his body as he smiled at his son and gently took him from his wife's arms._

 _"Alright, fair enough. Sweet cakes it is." He shot a smile over his son's head at Astrid, who was grinning. "I will see you later, my love, but for now, we have a kitchen to raid." Lukas squirmed in excitement as Oskar carted him off towards the kitchens. Astrid sighed quietly. Being married to royalty wasn't easy, but sometimes it was really worth it._


	13. A World of Ice and Stone

**Aaaaannnddd I'm back! First of all, thank you all so much for all the lovely reviews I got for the last chapter! It blew me away how much feedback I got! I had the stupidest grin on my face all weekend, let me tell you that, so thank you all so much! :D**

 **RECAP:  
\- Lukas and the others got back from their mission to Reycass. Lukas was briefed by Yao about the planned mission to Fynkn, and also met his protector, Matthias. They did not get along well.  
\- There was a lil flashback to Lukas' parents. From a young age, Lukas was apparently quite powerful.  
\- Lovino encountered Inkar Ahkmetov in Szwizca, and she gave him and Feliciano a deadline of until the 25th to get off Rela.**

 **WARNINGS:  
\- Mentions of death, child abuse and neglect.**

 **We finally get a new location in this chapter! Get keen guys!**

 **Also this is a whumpf chapter in terms of length. 8544 words! Enjoy this word dump!**

 **Please please please review! Even if it is unintelligible blabber, I will appreciate it a tonne!**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
18th Jaune_

Alfred only found out that one of his best friends in the universe would be on another planet for several months right before he left. Upon discovering that news, he had decided that absolutely _fucking booking it_ to Matthias' tent to say goodbye was necessary. To his delight, Gilbert and Tori joined him in this venture, and the three of them spent a good ten minutes weaving through lines of tents in order to track down the outlandish blond.

Alfred cursed internally. He had been so caught up with Arthur in the last few days that he had forgotten to check up on his other friends. And he did love Arthur, of course he did, but he shouldn't have placed absolutely all of his attention on him. There were other people he cared about as well.

Their ruffled trio finally stumbled into the small area that Yao had told them Matthias had been staying in, and looked around desperately, none of them having so much as a clue of which one was supposed to be his.

"Guys?" a confused voice said from behind them. They spun around, shouting in delight when they realised that the voice had belonged to no other than Matthias himself. Their leader looked rather puzzled but not displeased when they rushed to hug him, though he did push them off after a moment, citing the fact that he did, in fact, need oxygen to live.

"Dang, you all need to calm down a little. You're acting like I'm about to be executed." He scoffed, though he looked a bit touched by their actions. Alfred pouted.

"Dude, you're leaving! How long are you gonna be gone? Where are you going? Why? Are you part of the resistance now or what? Are you going with anyone?" anyone else would have blinked and been absolutely overwhelmed by Alfred's tirade of questioning, but Matthias knew him, and very well at that, so he didn't look surprised.

"According to Yao I'll be gone a few months, I'm going to Fynkn to protect that royal brat, not because I'm part of the resistance, but because he said that he would free us all if I did." They all took a moment to take that in.

"I didn't even know that Lukas was leaving." Tori mused. Matthias shrugged.

"He got told yesterday. I'm pretty sure I knew before he did." Alfred frowned.

"But dude…Fynkn is so far away, and isn't it super dangerous?" Matthias sighed.

"I mean…yeah, that's why Yao doesn't want to send the Bondevik kid alone. I'm a little more dispensable, I guess, so I have to stop him from getting himself killed." They all fell silent, before Gilbert spoke up.

"Why on earth would you agree to something like that?" Matthias sighed.

"Again, Yao promised that if I went along with his scheme that he would free those of us that are still imprisoned, so I'm doing it for them. You guys might have forgotten about them but I haven't." they all fell silent, before Matthias bit his lip. "I…I'm sorry, that wasn't fair." Alfred shook his head.

"It's okay man. You're not wrong, after all." He muttered. Gilbert smiled slightly.

"Yeah. Alfred's been too occupied making out with Captain Kirkland to think about much else." Alfred made an undignified squawking noise as Tori's mouth dropped open and Matthias' eyes went comically wide.

"Wait, really?" Tori asked, rounding on Alfred. "When the hell did that happen?" Alfred stammered incoherently, subconsciously planning to murder Gilbert at the first opportunity as he tried to give a somewhat understandable answer.

"While we were on our mission." Gilbert said, rolling his eyes. "You should have seen them." Matthias was laughing.

"Well, congrats, I guess. Honestly, in hindsight I'm not too surprised by that." Matthias chuckled. Alfred spluttered, face red, and decided to get one up on Gilbert.

"Well he's spent all his time since joining up gawking at my brother!" he said, jabbing a thumb at Gilbert, who immediately flushed red and made a noise reminiscent of a beached whale.

"Fuck you! I have not!" Gilbert said, face going even redder even as he vehemently denied having a crush on Matthew. Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Oh please, you're even more obvious than I was!" Alfred retorted.

"Al, I do not have a crush on your brother!"

"Oh? That's a shame. You're kinda cute." Gilbert froze, the blush on his face spreading rapidly to his neck and ears as they all spun and saw Matthew standing there with a breezy grin on his face, Lukas Bondevik in tow. Gilbert stammered a little, looking completely and utterly overwhelmed as Matthew chuckled and turned his gaze on Matthias.

"Sorry to interrupt, but you guys are leaving in about twenty minutes." Alfred saw Matthias' gaze shift from Matthew to Lukas, and a slight amount of apprehension cross his features.

"Fine then." Matthias said. "I just need to grab my stuff." Alfred saw Lukas run his eyes over them all, and frown slightly before speaking.

"Just…say goodbye to your friends. Matthew and I can grab your luggage." Matthias raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Why are you in such a friendly mood this morning?" Lukas wordlessly gave him the finger and marched past him. Matthias looked politely baffled but also somewhat pleased as he nodded to himself and then turned back to them. They were all silent for a moment, before Alfred darted forward and hugged him.

"Try not to get yourself killed, alright? Stick by Lukas, he can kill people with his mind." Matthias blinked, looking a little alarmed.

"Err…got it. I'll try not to piss him off more than I already have." Matthias said, not looking overly reassured. Gilbert stepped up to hug him next. Alfred didn't hear what they said to each other, but Matthias looked a little happier when they separated. Tori had to do a little jump to wrap her hands around Matthias' shoulders, but she managed it.

"You'll be fine, I know it. Lukas can be a bit cold at times, but when he warms up to you he's a really good person. Just try to get along?" Matthias laughed, and nodded.

"Okay, okay, I'll _try_." Tori grinned as she stepped away again, turning when she saw Lukas and Matthew emerge from Matthias' tent with all his things draped over their backs and shoulders. She darted over and hugged Lukas, murmuring something to him too. Alfred saw him nod and separate from her, saying something in return. Matthias approached them slowly, taking some of his things from Lukas and Matthew with muttered thanks, slinging them across his broad shoulders. He tossed them a wide smile, showing none of the uncertainty that he might have felt, and followed Matthew and Lukas away.

* * *

Lukas was silent as they walked towards the airfield. He still had one of his new companion's bags slung over his shoulder, and was casually tugging at a loose thread on the side. He saw Matthew glance at both of them before clearing his throat.

"I'm gonna go ahead and see how the flight preparations are coming along." He sent them a rakish grin. "Try not to tear one another apart just yet." Before either of them could protest, the other man had darted off towards the airfield. Lukas sighed. He expected to be immediately barraged with more sharp comments, mockery and childish insults, and was surprised when Køhler remained completely silent.

Lukas glanced at his face in his peripheral vision. The taller man looked drawn and a little wary. His emotions were clear even without the ability to read minds; he was a little afraid, but completely unwilling to show it. Lukas sighed. He and this bounty hunter would be forced to rely on one another for the next few months, so it probably wasn't ideal that their last real conversation before going to Fynkn was them hurling insults at one another.

"Listen…" he said, averting his gaze when the bounty hunter looked over at him, "I won't lie. I don't want to have someone constantly breathing down my neck. I can take care of myself and the only reason that Yao is refusing to see that is because he's stupidly overprotective of things. I don't want to have a bodyguard or be forced to spend a bunch of time with a stranger." The other man was silent. Lukas sighed again, and continued. "But…I don't have anything against you personally. I don't think either of us wants to be in this situation. You're doing this to free your friends, right?" the bounty hunter nodded. "Well, my point is, we're both doing this because it's better than the alternative. Me being able to fight with a bodyguard is preferable to staying on Nyma forever, just like you cooperating with the resistance for several months is preferable over staying trapped in a cell forever."

"I'm aware of that." The bounty hunter cut in. "What's your point?" Lukas sighed.

"My point is, though neither of us wants to be in this exact situation, we're stuck with it anyway. I think we were both taking out our frustrations about this whole mess on each other yesterday. Again, I have nothing against you, I just think it'll be a little easier for us both if we stop seeing each other as the problem here." The other man was silent, before humming quietly.

"You make a good point." He conceded. "I didn't really mean to offend you so much yesterday." The man sent him a grin. "Though, you shouldn't be so easy to tease." Lukas rolled his eyes, but he didn't feel half as irritated as he had yesterday.

"Well, bounty hunter? Do you think we can tolerate each other for a few months?" Lukas said. The man shrugged.

"I suppose so. And my name is Matthias, by the way, little princeling."

"Well if you want me to call you Matthias then you can't call me 'little princeling'. That's a little hypocritical."

"How about good old 'Bondevik'? Or 'Christensen', since that's your alias, right?" Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"Fine. _Køhler_." He retorted. The taller man grinned.

"That works too, I guess."

* * *

 _Szwicza District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
18th Jaune_

Lovino muttered a curse as he shifted through the stack. He had looked through every last nook and cranny of their apartment where he had stashed money over the last six years, but the amount that his search had turned up was much smaller than he would have wanted. Even as he shuffled through the meagre number of notes, he was recalling moments that he had dug into their stash to pay for another month of rent or some extra food if Feli had been looking thinner than usual when they were younger.

He slumped against the moth-eaten couch, counting the notes under his breath. There was nowhere near enough for them to leave the planet and then establish an even somewhat decent life anywhere. Lovino had had to work hard as fuck to get the place they had now, and it was still a complete shithole. He growled. Why the fuck did they have to up and leave just because that psychotic glorified beat cop? He groaned. He didn't want to leave, he didn't want to listen to that woman…but she would kill them if they didn't go, and living in poverty or even being homeless again was a better option than being dead.

Lovino let out a shuddering sigh. For the first time in maybe eight years, he was finding himself on the verge of tears. He buried his face in his hands, trying to force the emotions back. He knew that there was no shame in crying, but he didn't have the time to feel sorry for himself. For his own sake, and, more importantly, for Feli's as well, he needed to scrounge up as much money in the next week as he could. He cursed. He had tried to move away from pickpocketing and mugging and street-fighting not only because he wanted to stay under the radar but because he wanted to be a better person too. It looked like that little endeavour of his was going to have to be thrown out the window.

"Lovi?" Feliciano's voice was quiet. Lovino had explained the whole situation to him shortly after the woman had approached him, and he seemed even more fearful of the whole debacle than Lovino was. He cursed internally as he felt wetness on his cheeks and hands, and felt a sob bursting to escape his throat. He hated feeling so weak and helpless, especially when he had his younger brother to take care of as well. He needed to be strong, not for himself, but for Feliciano.

Lovino felt gentle hands rest on his forearms, carefully moving his fingers away from his face. Feliciano's face crumpled in sympathy when he saw the tears running down his brother's face, and didn't hesitate to wrap him in a hug. Lovino;s breath hitched, a lone sob escaping his mouth as he slumped into Feliciano's hold.

"Everything will work out okay, Lovi." His little brother murmured softly. "I don't mind leaving. As long as we stay together, it doesn't matter where we are, right?"

Lovino sniffed, pulling away a little to wipe at his face. He chuckled softly.

"I don't understand how you can be so optimistic, even now. I don't know how you do it."

Feliciano shrugged, smiling softly. "Because I know that it's true. They can throw what they want at us but as long as we're together, we can beat them. We'll be fine, so don't worry about it."

Lovino chuckled, voice husky. "When did our roles reverse?" Feliciano smiled softly.

"I just thought…you've spent your whole life taking care of me, so it's only right that I return the favour, yeah?" Lovino rolled his eyes good-naturedly, hugging him again.

"That's not at all how it works, but alright then." He pulled away after another moment, smiling weakly.

"You wanna show me what progress you've made with the _Fuenar_?" he asked. Feliciano immediately brightened, rushing to find his lighter as his brother grinned.

* * *

 _Onboard the LWSS Vexer,  
In open space,  
19th Jaune_

Lukas gazed out the window idly. The captain had informed them that they would arrive early in the morning tomorrow, but he felt too restless to sleep. The ship that they were travelling in was a lot bulkier than he was used to. Fynkn was only a system or so over from Nyma, but it was taking them longer than usual to get there because of the ship's slowness. It made him antsy, but another part of him was grateful.

He hadn't been back to Fynkn since the Expansion; since the Union had murdered his parents and plunged his entire life into chaos. Since he had been forced to run for his life at the young age of eight, and take care of a sister who had known even less than he had. On occasion, he allowed himself to wonder what his life would be like, had the Expansion never happened. He would have been raised in the palace, of course, by his very-much-so _living_ parents, and…well, he probably wouldn't have been the same person that he was now.

He would have grown up being taught languages and foreign policy and all number of other relevant topics. He would have accompanied his parents to state dinners and been encouraged to go out and spend time with his subjects, delighting them with his mere presence. His life would have been what the life of royalty was normally like.

He…probably would not have had too many friends, given the security that had plagued the Bondeviks since the assassination of Carina Vargas. The Queen of Syhvva had been murdered before Emilia had even been born, and yet her death had altered the Free Courts irreversibly in the years before the Expansion. Lukas himself didn't remember the day much. His mother had been heavily pregnant – just two months away from giving birth, and he himself hadn't even been three yet. Most of what he remembered he felt that he had accidentally plucked from his parents' memories; they had both been remarkably close to Carina Vargas, and the event had shaken them both to their core.

* * *

 _Elacenza, Syhvva,  
7th Apryl, 4496CC,  
(16 years ago)_

 _Lukas idly reached over and tugged gently on Lovino's hair. He didn't know how else he was supposed to gain his friend's attention, even though it seemed to annoy the four-year-old a little._

 _"Owwwww!" Lovino said, mouth turning down at the corners as his small hands moved up to grab at the sore spot on his head. "That hurts!". Lukas slumped a little, upset. He hadn't meant to hurt his friend. Lovino and him hadn't known each other for very long, but he liked him. Sometimes when he got excited sparks would fly from his hands, even though Lovino's mama said that wasn't supposed to happen until he was older, and his hair was red!_

 _"Lukas, honey, don't pull Lovi's hair." His mama said, gently combing her hand through his hair. Lukas pouted. He used to do that to mama, but it never bothered her. He wasn't allowed to do that right now – her stomach was really big, so she was probably sick – and she couldn't pick him up as easily._

 _"Sowwy." He said softly. "I wanna-ed talk to you." Lovino huffed, arms folded grumpily but not looking half as angry anymore._

 _"Then call my name. It's easy." Lukas beamed, nodding as all of his sadness was forgotten. Lovino rubbed his nose. "So what'd you wanna say?" Lukas sighed softly._

 _"How much longer till we eat?" Lukas asked. His stomach was hurting, and he assumed that it was because he was hungry. Lovino shrugged._

 _"We need to wait for mama and papa to get back first." He said. "Then they have to do their dumb adult talking thing." Lukas groaned. Their parents were always talking. Lovino nodded, obviously in agreement with Lukas' groan of disappointment, and plucked up the small toy wolf that Lukas' parents had bought him. There were wolves everywhere on Fynkn, and he loved the toy greatly. He liked Lovino because he didn't mess up his wolf at all. He was careful with it._

 _Lovino gently placed the wolf toy in Lukas' arms, taking care to make sure it didn't fall, before plucking up another toy, a small stuffed lion, and nestling it under his arm._

 _"It won't be long now." He insisted. "Their pay-rade is almost over." He struggled over the word. Lukas' mama smiled._

 _"Par-ade, darling." She said, gently ruffling Lovino's red hair. "And he's right. We don't have much longer now to wait." Lukas nodded, frowning a little. His stomach was still hurting, and he felt oddly like crying. Nothing bad had happened to him – Lovino had declared earlier that they were best friends, he had his wolf, and food was coming soon – but he felt very upset. He sniffled slightly, hugging his wolf tightly._

 _His mama was frowning now, and she opened her arms up for him to crawl into. "Honey, what's wrong?" Lukas sniffled, tears running down his face._

 _"I don't know!" he wailed. "I just feel bad!" his mother looked more and more concerned now._

 _"Do you mean you feel sick?" she tried, gently rubbing his head as Lovino watched their encounter silently, with wide eyes. He shook his head._

 _"No, everyone else is making me sad!" he said, sniffing again. His mama frowned._

 _"Everyone else-" she was cut off as the doors to the room they were in flew open, and Lukas' papa strode in. He wasn't walking like he normally did, calm and slow so that Lukas could keep up. He was moving fast, with big, long steps. Lukas' mama jumped a little, looking surprised. "Oskar, what-" then she fell silent. Lukas peered around her sheet of white-blond hair to look at his papa, still sniffing. His papa's face was whiter than his hair, and he was shaking slightly. Was he sick? Lukas got sick sometimes-_

 _"Take Lovino and Lukas out of here. And find Prince Feliciano as well." Lukas' papa said to a servant nearby. The man looked alarmed, but darted over to Lovino and gently took his hand, taking Lukas from his mama when she handed him over. Lukas' mama looked worried now._

 _"What's happening?" she asked, tone low and worried. Lukas' papa looked harried and so, so sad. When he turned to face Lukas' mama next, Lukas could see that he was crying._

 _He didn't hear what he said next, but he did whimper when he spotted the servant coming in the door. They had a lot of red on them, and they were shaking too._

 _The servant holding him and Lovino rushed them out the doors, and he didn't see anything else after that._

* * *

Lukas sighed, pressing his forehead to the cold glass in front of him. Carina Vargas and her husband Marco had been assassinated during a parade that day, leaving their two children orphaned and forcing Carina's father, Romulus, to re-take the throne. From what Lukas had heard, the man had been hit the hardest by Carina's death – she was his daughter, after all – and hadn't been a very strong presence in his grandsons' lives. It made Lukas feel sad for Lovino and Feliciano.

Lovino had loved his parents, and having that role stripped away and not really ever being filled again hadn't been good for him. The small temper he had had as a child had only grown worse over time, and his anger had fuelled the already premature appearance of his gifts, to the point that, when Lukas next got to see him in person, when he was five years old, Lovino had already been able to set his entire body on fire.

And Prince Feliciano? He had only been a baby – just ten months old when his parents died. He had never had time to adapt to having a parental figure in his life, especially since their grandfather didn't seem to spend much time with them, so he had latched onto his older brother, and become ridiculously clingy where he was involved.

At times, it made Lukas resent Romulus Vargas a little. He had stepped up to take care of Syhvva and her people again, but he hadn't been able to do the same for his own family members. He hadn't died in the Expansion – as far as Lukas was aware, he was still being held hostage and used as a bargaining chip to force the Syhvvanian people into obedience. He could understand, though. All throughout his childhood, Lukas had listened to people on Syhvva go on an on about how much Lovino resembled his mother. Even as a child, looking between pictures of the two, the similarity was striking. He had her amber eyes and dark hair and fine facial structure. He honestly, in some pictures, looked simply like a short-haired or gender-swapped version of Carina. Lukas understood that that must be painful for Romulus to go through – to see his dead daughter in his young grandson certainly explained why he had stayed distant. And yet…

Well, Lukas's own parents had adored Carina. She had been his father's long-term companion and one of his mother's best friends. They had loved her like she was a member of their own family, and had extended that love to her husband Marco when they got married. And surely, it would have been painful to see Lovino for them as well, when he so resembled their friend, but they had gone out of their way to talk to him and make him feel loved.

Lovino had once, when Lukas was seven and he was eight, admitted that he liked it when Lukas and his family visited Fynkn. When Lukas had asked why, he had shrugged and responded. _"Because, it makes me feel like my parents are back or something."_

Being able to understand Romulus Vargas' feelings didn't excuse his actions, though. Lukas had always petitioned his parents to let them visit Syhvva more often, or let Prince Lovino stay with them. The Prince had been one of his best friends, in addition to Viktorija, and he liked seeing him happy. When the Expansion happened, Lovino had been only nine, yet he had seemed so sad even before the invasion occurred.

Lukas rubbed his forehead. It was stupid of him to miss someone that he had known when he was a child, but he missed Lovino regardless. He was happy to have Tori back, of course, but they had never seen her as much when they were children. It was customary on Daerna for the royal family to have only one child per generation, since they had had some insane wars over succession in the past, so she had been protected like crazy. Lukas had Emilia and Lovino had had his brother Feliciano, but Tori, having no siblings, and no-one to take up the throne if she were to die, was watched like a hawk.

"Oi." A voice behind him said. Lukas clenched his jaw. He recognised it, sadly. He spun around to face the bounty hunter who would be watching his back on Fynkn. Matthias Køhler looked remarkably unconcerned about the fact that they weren't far from Fynkn, or about to enter an active warzone. In fact, the bounty hunter looked relaxed. He was wearing a loose sweatshirt with long black pants, his hair messy and bags under his eyes. "Captain said that curfew will be enforced in like twenty minutes. Might wanna grab some sleep. We probably won't get much on Fynkn." Lukas nodded.

"Got it." He murmured, shifting to stare out the window again. Køhler moved to stand beside him, jabbing a finger out at what looked like a distant, pale blue star.

"That's it." He said simply. "We'll be there in the morning. I mean it. Sleep. I don't wanna have to lug you around all day because you're only half-conscious." Lukas scowled, folding his arms.

"Fine. If you _insist_." Køhler grinned, and god did Lukas want to slap that smug look off his face.

"Take your time, _your majesty_." He teased. Lukas smacked him.

"You moron. I don't see any royalty around here, do you?" Køhler sighed, then shook his head.

"True. You're a real jackass, aren't you?" Lukas glowered at him. Regardless of the agreement that they had made to have at least _some_ respect for each other, it was far too easy for their personalities to clash.

"Do you want to die tonight, Køhler?" he growled. The bounty hunter grinned, expression shifting into something bizarre. Lukas made a face. "What the fuck is going on with your expression?"

"Oh? Nothing. I'm just remembering that Alfred mentioned you can kill people with your mind." He said casually. "Anyway, good night jackass." Lukas rolled his eyes as the bounty hunter walked off, perhaps a little faster than he otherwise would have done. He gazed out the window for another moment before sighing and stepping away. As much as he hated to admit it, the blond was right; he would need sleep for tomorrow.

Sending one last look at the distant speck that was his home planet, he turned away and headed towards his room.

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp  
Fenyir Region, Fynkn,  
19th Jaune_

Matthias gripped the overhead handle as the ship hurtled towards through the atmosphere, flying in such bizarre and twisting patterns that it was making him nauseous. One of the Fynknians who had been recovering on Nyma had already stepped away from the entrance to vomit a few times, and he felt dangerously close to joining her. Infuriatingly, Bondevik looked not only like he was distinctly not nauseous, but rather calm as well, despite the sickening dives and lunges that the ship was taking towards the surface.

They had had everything explained to them; the Union actively monitored Fynkn's atmosphere for any incoming or outgoing aircraft. It was illegal for Fynknians to leave the planet, which made it hard for the resistance to offer help sometimes. Nonetheless, it was possible to get in if you had a very talented pilot with you. Yao had decided to send none other than Atalaya Somero, the resistance's best fighter pilot, to take them to Fynkn, so in that regard, they didn't have to worry, but it was still very dangerous. The Union cared more about ships leaving than entering, but they still could track entering ships to see if they could locate the resistance. For that reason, they also weren't going to be dropped right at the rebels' doorstep.

Atalaya looked remarkably calm despite the tension of the situation. He could hear her humming the familiar tune of a Jhobrasian folk song as she jerked the gearsticks to make the ship plunge vertically downwards. They had all been called into the cockpit, with Atalaya citing the reason being that the cockpit was the part of the ship least likely to get blown-up mid-flight by the Union. A delightful thought.

Matthias grabbed the back of Atalaya's chair, stomach rolling unpleasantly, as she guided the small travel pod that they had taken down to the surface through a horrifyingly narrow rock tunnel, before bursting out the other side, slowing down considerably. Matthias swallowed thickly, but took the time to actually get a good first look at Fynkn. Before, they had been travelling so fast that he hadn't been able to see anything, but now, he could actually take in the landscape.

Where Nyma had been reaches of red sand and scraggly trees on occasion, the Feynir region of Fynkn was the opposite. Like a lot of the planet, it was mountainous, with vast grey and black peaks blanketed in white snow stretching away into the distance. The few stretches of flat land were far between and not great in size; far, far, below them he could flat stretches littered with sections of thick fir trees and the bend of a silver river, through which thick chunks of ice were lazily drifting. Everything was covered in snow, with more yet being dumped down from the sky. The flakes landed on the glass screen that they were looking out of, forming a thin layer within a few moments. Atalaya flicked a switch to heat the glass and remove the snow, before quickly guiding the ship around one of the mountain peaks that Matthias had been admiring.

On the other side was a vast stretch of blue, traversing from the top of the mountain to almost the bottom, like a slice of the mountain had been removed and the ice implanted in it's place. Matthias gawked, unembarrassed by the way that his mouth slackened and fell open. He saw one of the Fynknian rebels that had come with them grinning.

"That's Blå Ren." She said in smooth Fynknian. "'The Blue Sheer' in Common Standard." She said, switching to said language. "It's a glacier." Matthias stared.

"That's a glacier?" he exclaimed. "But…it's huge!" the girl grinned.

"Uh huh. It's not even the biggest glacier that our planet has. Better get used to seeing them." Matthias shook his head in astonishment, turning back to face the front as the ship glided downwards, towards the top of the mountain and Blå Ren. He glanced over at Bondevik. In his own excitement at seeing the surface, he hadn't spared a though for how the kid must feel. After all, he hadn't seen his home planet in years.

His eyes were wide, expression oddly open and gentle, like he was taking in everything at once and trying to commit it all to memory. He looked so…nostalgic. Happy, too. His wonder-filled gaze slowly shifted from the glass to Matthias, and just like that, his expression locked up. The joy and familiarity vanished, hidden behind his usual expression of stoicism and vague irritation. He clenched his jaw slightly, and Matthias directed his attention elsewhere as Atalaya gently guided the ship down to land. They were near the top of Blå Ren, and Matthias could already anticipate that some exercise was about to happen.

"Alright, everyone rugged up?" Atalaya asked cheerfully. They all nodded, even as Matthias pulled his scarf closer around his neck. "Good. Temperature meter says that it's about -10°C out there right now. Pretty temperate for the top of a mountain." Matthias sighed, rolling his eyes as he followed the disembarking Fynknians outside.

The cold hit him like a physical thing. It sunk effortlessly through the thick layers of clothing that he was wearing and sent goose-bumps jumping to life across his arms, legs and neck. He felt the hairs on his body stand up in protest to the cold, and he immediately shuddering.

"Fuck." he ground out, moving a gloved hand to cover his mouth as cold air brushed against them brutally. "Please tell me that it isn't always like this." Bondevik shrugged, but one of the Fynknian girls grinned apologetically.

"You get used to it eventually?" she said looking amused. Matthias cursed again and quickly set himself in motion, helping the others unload the supplies that the resistance had sent along. It was mostly shipments of medical supplies, weapons and some extra clothes and blankets for refugees, but it was seriously heavily. He grunted as he dragged it down to the snow-blanketed ground. Bondevik appeared behind him and starting helping the others tie them onto wheeled platforms.

"We aren't going to scale the mountain down, are we?" he asked the teen. Bondevik glanced over at him, shrugging.

"I have no idea, honestly. I hope not." Matthias huffed out a weak laugh, glad that the kid could at least agree with him on _some_ things. They finished loading up everything, before grabbing their own luggage and throwing it on top. Matthias glanced around, puzzled.

"Now what?" he asked. The Fynknian girl exchanged a grin with the other rebel, a tall guy with silver hair.

"Follow us." She said simply, taking hold of one end of the wheeled platform and dragging it closer to the rock wall. Matthias and the others moved to help, and they managed to push through the rapidly deepening snow to get the supplies to the rock wall. The girl detached herself from the group and moved around, running her hands over the rock until she obviously found something, and slipped her hand inside, pressing at something. A loud clanking noise echoed out like a gunshot, making them all flinch and step back a little. A loud whirring met their ears, and Matthias glanced around, confused, until the girl grinned and pointed to a wide crevice in the rock that they hadn't yet noticed. He could see a rough, thoroughly beaten and battered metal door, which was slowly rising up. Matthias' awestruck, confused brain momentarily entertained the idea that the rebels had somehow set up base inside a mountain, until beyond the door, he saw a rusted platform shudder to a stop roughly level with the ground outside.

 _It's an elevator_ , he realised. The rebels had somehow managed to make an elevator inside a mountain peak. He sent a shocked, confused look at the girl, who laughed.

"I'll explain how they managed that when you've been cleared. For now, though, get in."

Matthias was too shocked to even argue, wordlessly helping shove the platform inside the elevator and climb inside beside it. Bondevik was pressed in close behind him, elbows brushing against Matthias' back. He glanced over at the prince again, who also looked impressed and curious about the elevator.

"It's a little jerky, so don't be alarmed by that." The girl said cheerfully as the doors slammed shut.

Jerky was an understatement. The caged box felt like it was being shaken by hurricane-like winds as it rapidly descended through the rough-hewn tunnel. Closer inspection of the walls proved that the tunnel had, in fact, been carved out of the ice rather than the stone, which made a lot more sense. The sheer face of the Blå Ren glacier hid an entire elevator shaft. He had to wonder how they had managed it.

The elevator finally shuddered to a stop after maybe three solid minutes of downwards travel, with Matthias still feeling like his brain was rattling around inside his skull. The girl stepped clambered to the front of the group as the doors slid open. It was a good thing she did, in fact, as the moment that the light hit his face, Matthias also found a rifle shoved right under his nose.

"Corporal Viktorsen, nice to see you again." A mild voice said in Fynknian. Matthias mentally switched over from Common Standard to the language as his ears registered it. The girl didn't seem at all troubled or even surprised by the presence of a gun in her face.

"It is nice to see you, two, Captain Thomassen." She said cheerily. "The elevator is working better than it did last time." The Captain commanding the soldiers with guns in their faces tilted her head slightly, and Matthias was able to properly see her face; strong, proud features complemented by dark grey hair pulled back tightly and light blue eyes. She looked middle-aged.

"Oh?" the Captain said. "Did you have an unpleasant experience last time?" the girl, Corporal Viktorsen, grinned.

"Well, one of the cable ties snapped and we plunged ten metres straight down. I broke my leg, remember? You sent me to Nyma for recuperation." The woman watched the Corporal carefully for a moment before nodding, and the soldier holding a gun in her face lowered it and nodded his head respectfully. Matthias realised that that had been a test – the rebels seeing if she was who she claimed to be.

"I remember. And who are your companions?" Matthias' gaze flickered briefly back to the butt of the rifle in his face as the Corporal continued.

"Well, I'm sure you remember Ardis here. He's finally recovered from that nasty virus. And these two-" she reached out and tapped both Matthias and Lukas Bondevik on the shoulders, "these are newcomers! Both sent straight from the resistance!" the Captain frowned.

"I see. Do they have identification papers or any kind?" the girl nodded. She had told them to hand over their papers before they landed, but hadn't explained why. The Corporal pulled two folders from her coat and handed them over quickly. The Captain took one, and a young man standing nearby took the other. She flipped it open and looked over the papers inside, before glancing up and scrutinising Bondevik. "Lukas Christensen, correct?" he nodded, and Matthias mentally committed the alias to memory. The first name was easy, given it was the same, but he needed to be careful about the surname from now on. Bondevik nodded calmly, looking no more than slightly irritated with the gun pressed against his throat. The Captain handed his file to the young male soldier standing nearby who had been perusing Matthias' file.

"Lance Corporal Makensen, do we have reports of a Lukas Christensen being sent by the resistance?" the young man nodded.

"Yes, Captain. We received the transmission early yesterday, as is customary for General Wang. We also have a record indicating the arrival of Matthias Køhler," he nodded at Matthias as the soldier pressing a gun against Bondevik's throat lowered their weapon, "so they are both accounted for." The Captain nodded, looking at Matthias curiously.

"Mr Køhler, you are not Fynknian."

"Well spotted." He said dryly. He heard Bondevik exhale loudly behind him, clearly exasperated. The Captain's eyebrow quirked upwards but she didn't respond to his comment.

"Why are you here?" Matthias rolled his shoulders absently.

"Because the General ordered me to come here." He said simply. It wasn't the full truth, but it wasn't a lie either. The Captain eyed him carefully, before nodding.

"I can't say that we have many Rywanese soldiers, but I won't say we aren't grateful for them." She raised a hand and the soldiers still holding up guns lowered them immediately and stowed them on their backs. "I apologise for the abruptness. It is for security reasons, I'm sure you can understand." Matthias nodded, sending a half-hearted glare at the soldier who had pointed their gun at him. She turned to the soldiers behind her. "Bring the supplies to the general distribution area, and send a reminder to the transmissions office to thank General Wang for his assistance. Makensen, take those files to Anga." She turned back to face them, still intimidating but much less threatening now.

"I am Captain Malin Thomassen," she said, ducking her head a little, "I am one of the commanding officers at this training camp, in addition to being one of the squad leaders for the guerrilla groups." The girl frowned.

"Why aren't you on the battlefield, Captain?" she asked. Malin winced.

"I am in need of some new soldiers to bolster my squad's numbers." The girl fell silent, looking upset. Evidently, she either knew the people of Malin's squad or was part of it. Malin turned to them. "Hopefully, some of the new recruits actually demonstrate some promise." She turned on her heel. "Viktorsen, Christensen, Køhler, follow me, please."

They followed her obediently as she marched off. Matthias gawked around at the rebel training camp. They were located at the base of Blå Ren, in the shadow of the mountain, which was practically impossible to reach from the air – he understood the need for the elevator now, that was for sure – and actually looked pretty advanced. It certainly had a more permanent feel to it than the resistance camp on Nyma did.

The buildings were built low to the ground, constructed from dark brick and oiled timber designed to keep the heat in. The windows were all tightly closed, with the curtains also drawn shut in a lot of cases. The entire place was buzzing with activity – people wearing thick coats were rushing to and from buildings and training grounds. It was jarring to see how many were holding weapons. Lots of people from the resistance carried weapons everywhere as well, but there were also refugees and non-combatants on Nyma who abstained from such a thing. Here, _everyone_ that he could see was decked out with guns on their hips or slung across their shoulders and knives strapped to their thighs. Fynkn was an active warzone, he supposed. It made sense for people to be more vigilant here than they were on Nyma.

The camp looked fairly large; he could see large spaces enclosed by the walls of buildings that definitely looked like they would be used to train recruits, and through the narrow passages of rock, more rows of buildings and bunkers were visible. And this was only a _training_ camp. He shook his head in mild astonishment. Octavia hadn't been wrong when she had warned him that the rebels on Fynkn didn't fuck around. Captain Malin was looking over her shoulder at them as she walked, obviously trying to gauge their reactions. She paused in front of a low building that actually had it's front door propped open by a small rock.

"You two going to be processed here, to ensure that you are actually who you say you are. It is purely a safety precaution; we have full faith in the resistance and General Wang, but also an intimate understanding of how talented and manipulative the Union can be." Matthias nodded. He had never been the Union's greatest fan, in all honesty, but even for the die-hard supporters, it wasn't hard to see that they often sacrificed morals for the sake of victory.

Malin pushed the door open, showing them into a small room with dark wood walls and a rough floor. It was hardly warmer in here than it was outside, but the subtraction of the vicious wind-chill was certainly a welcome change. The walls across with them were lined with filing cabinets and computer consoles. Several closed doors, with signs written in Fynknian, obviously led to other areas of the facility. The only person inside was a middle-aged woman wearing a long, thick coat made of blue wool. She looked up as they came in, and nodded.

"Good morning, Malin. New recruits to be processed?" Malin nodded.

"Yes, Anga. Lukas Christensen and Matthias Køhler." She said. "Do you have the files I told Makensen to give you?" the woman nodded.

"Yes. I'll do the Rywani first." She said kindly. Matthias looked at her warily. Malin sighed, tossing her hair back a little.

"Well, the information will do you no good if you aren't here to help us, so I might as well explain. This is Anga Lindholm. She is a relative of the Bondevik family and, as a result, has some mild abilities similar to the _Sjeltanker_. She will be able to tell if you are being truthful or not." Matthias blinked in surprise. Bondevik looked curious.

"Really? How are you related?" he asked. The woman, Anga, smiled.

"My mother was Rina, sister to Queen Vetmar. Vetmar was the mother of King Oskar, who was my cousin, rest his soul. My abilities are not strong, but they are present nonetheless."

"That's still amazing, though." Matthias said, not an ounce of dishonesty in his voice as he said it. Anga smiled.

"You should meet my nieces." She said simply. Before he had time to react to that, she beckoned him over. "Come now. It won't take long." Matthias hesitated for a moment, but obeyed, sitting down on the chair she indicated. "Now, roll up your sleeve and hold out your arm." Matthias blinked in confusion. Anga smiled, quickly explaining. "My abilities, though they work well enough, require physical contact. True Bondeviks need nothing of the sort." Matthias nodded, frowning slightly as he did what she said and extended his bare arm to her.

Anga reached out, curling her fingers around his wrist and gripping it tightly.

"Now. Is your name Matthias Magnus Køhler?" he nodded. "And your birthdate is the 5th of Jaune – oh my, well a very belated happy birthday to you – of 4489CC?" he gave the affirmative again. She adjusted her grip slightly and continued. "And you are 23 years old?"

"Yup." He said, wincing as her nails dug into his skin a little.

"And you were sent here by the resistance?"

"Yes."

She asked him a few more absent questions, all of which he answered honestly, before finally releasing his arm from her grip, picking up his file and writing something on it in Fynknian.

"Excellent. Well, Mr Køhler is entirely telling the truth, so he is fine to start the preliminary training tomorrow. Now, Mr Christensen, if you would." At this, a spike of apprehension flew through Matthias. Even though Yao had sent him here as himself, he most certainly had not done the same with Bondevik. The kid was a walking collation of deception. Nonetheless, he looked calm as he pushed his sleeve up to expose his pale forearm and extended it to the woman.

He didn't look even remotely alarmed as she grabbed his wrist like she had Matthias.

"Your name is Lukas Sigard Christensen?"

"Yes."

"Your birthdate is the 17th of Jaune – my, my, happy late birthday to yourself as well, named after the crown prince, were you?" Bondevik nodded wordlessly. "And you were born in 4493CC?" He nodded once more.

"And you were sent here by the resistance?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever been affiliated with the Union in any way?"

"No."

"Are you lying to me, at all?" Bondevik sent her a wry look.

"No."

Anga smiled as she released him. "100% honest as well. You're both cleared to go." Malin nodded, bowing to Anga.

"Thank you, Anga." She turned to Matthias and Bondevik again. "Alright, you two, come with me." They obediently followed her, with Bondevik firmly ignoring Matthias' curious looks and even the way he jabbed him in the side to get his attention. The only response he got in response to his efforts was a quelling glare as they followed Malin back out into the cold. Matthias sighed, resigning himself to bugging the kid about how he had tricked the woman later. He continued to look around as Malin led them underneath part of another brick building and into an open space. The space was rather large, about 50 metres across each way, and was bracketed by three-storey, dark-wood buildings on all sides, with little wooden arched openings on each side. Malin paused and spun around to speak again.

"This is the training barracks for our new recruits. Since you two are rather late arrivals, we don't have time to do aptitude testing for either of you, so you'll both be housed in Block D. it's the only one with space left." she gestured to the southern building of the four.

"Training starts tomorrow. You'll be taught skills pertaining to combat and survival in Fynkn's harsh environment. We'll also teach you how to operate as a proper member of a military. You future placements will depend on your performance in this preliminary training. If you prove average or below average skills, you may be assigned to do further training at another location. If you do better than average or have some skill, you may be posted to an outcropping base or trade route. If you demonstrate remarkable skill, you may be placed directly in one of the guerrilla squads that actively work in the field. It all depends on your showing here, so you can't afford to be slack."

Malin raised an eyebrow at them. "Any questions?" they shook their heads. "Good. You should find uniform stashes in each building. Find one that fits you well enough. Wake-up call is 0600 hours. Be prepared to undergo some pretty intense training." They both nodded. "Now, go on. You're in Block D, remember. What time is wake-up call tomorrow?"

"0600 hours." They both repeated blearily. Malin nodded.

"Good." She turned on her heel and marched off, leaving them standing in the middle of the snow-covered meeting area. Bondevik immediately turned around to head towards Block D. Matthias sighed, jogging to catch up with him.

"How the hell did you trick that lady back there?" he asked. "You made her believe you were telling the truth." Bondevik sighed.

"You really are a moron, aren't you?" The Fynknian said, looking exasperated. "I have the _Sjeltanker_ , which allows me to manipulate people's minds. All I had to do was make her think that she was listening to the truth. It's not that hard." Matthias shook his head, a little impressed and also a little disturbed.

"You don't have to be a jackass just because I don't know every little thing about this place." He snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'd like to see you do a quick-recall test on Rywanese culture and history." Bondevik shot him a glare, but didn't respond. Matthias sighed, regardless of the peace they had agreed to (mostly) uphold, it didn't look like they would be all buddy-buddy anytime soon.


	14. Pain and Gain

**Whaattupppp my homies, tis another chapter!**

 **I do NOT wanna be that person who begs for more reviews, but like, guys. I got 2 reviews last chapter and I'm (fairly) confident that more than two people read this every week. Please give an exhausted uni student some love \\('.')/**

 **Anyway, moving on~**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lukas and Matthias agreed to have a sort of truce while on Fynkn, though, considering their combative personalities, neither is confident it will last** **long.**  
 **\- Lovino and Feliciano are failing to collect the funds they need to flee Rela before Inkar Akhmetov's time limit runs out.**  
 **\- Flashback to when Lovino and Feliciano's parents were murdered. The brothers' grandfather, Romulus, was apparently never the same after his daughter died, and was cruel and neglectful to Lovino.**  
 **\- Lukas and Matthias finally arrived on Fynkn, met a fearsome rebel named Captain Malin Thomassen, and were assigned to start preliminary training for about 5-6 weeks.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- A few very brief mentions of sex and a lil bit of violence, nothing that really needs a warning.**

 **Enjoyyyy, and please reviewwwwww**

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Fenyir Region, Fynkn,  
20th Jaune_

Lukas was woken by the harsh blaring of an overhead alarm, and immediately wished he could dive deeper into his covers and ignore it. Unfortunately, he had been relegated to the top bunk, so the alarm was going off about half a metre away from his face, meaning that even the softest and thickest blankets were unlikely to be able to drown out the noise. He groaned slightly, glancing over at the digital clock that was pinned up to the wall, in clear view of everyone. 0600 hours. Well, they were punctual, if nothing else. Everyone else in the room had started to get up and get dressed so, grumbling in irritation, Lukas started to do the same.

The barracks were…exactly along the lines of what he had expected. Rows and rows of uncomfortable bunks stacked three beds high in buildings with white-plaster walls and very little insulation. The barracks were co-ed, but the women had been placed down one end, while men had been put down the other. They had been warned about being intimate with any other recruits, though from what Lukas had seen so far, everyone was too tired to think about sex by the time they got back to their bunks.

He and Køhler had been briefly introduced to the whole unit yesterday afternoon, as their training had ended. As it turned out, the batch of recruits that they had joined had begun their preliminary training about two weeks ago. According to the person on the bunk below Lukas, so far it had been basic physicality and fitness training. They had also dabbled in using guns and other weapons, but Lukas wasn't concerned; he was in good shape already – working with the resistance had ensured that – and he knew very well how to use weapons. He understood the necessity, though. A lot of the people wanting to learn to fight, by their own admission, were farmers or students or even former prisoners. Most of them didn't have the skills required to fight a war.

He had already managed to pick out a few outliers in the group. There was one heavy-set man of maybe 22 years named Kors Justsen who seemed to believe that he was by far the best fighter in the group. He had spent a good deal of time outlining why he was going to be selected to go straight to the squads. The sad thing was, for all his unpleasantness and egotistical behaviour, he wasn't wrong. Most of the other recruits were hardly even in shape, much less able to fight like he could. Another anomaly of the group was a girl named Riya Kristoff, who seemed small and slight and almost entirely defenceless, and yet who seemed to garner respect and deference from everyone. Only Kors ever seemed to be anything approaching disrespectful to her, but even then, he didn't outright mock or insult her like he did everyone else.

Lukas tumbled onto the floor, glad that he had managed to land on his feet as he collected himself. Køhler, who was on the bottom bunk of the same bed as him, looked up at him blearily.

"Can I go home yet?" the Rywanese man groaned, rubbing his face. Lukas rolled his eyes, tugging on the man's sleeve. No matter how well they did in this training, they needed to be assigned to the same place, and being assigned at all meant them both participating in this training. The taller man rolled his eyes but stumbled out of bed regardless, immediately dwarfing Lukas as he straightened up. Lukas shifted over to the chest where they were all storing their uniforms, and tugged his out of it's small marked compartment.

"Not quite yet." He said simply, pulling the slightly overlarge grey sweatshirt that he had been given as pyjamas over his head. One of the most unnerving things to happen so far had happened last night, when Lukas had found himself and Køhler being subtly watched by the people around them as they undressed. One of the friendlier recruits – Ansel – had explained that they were trying to size them up, and see if they were threats to their own positions. Lukas had found it a little creepy, in all honesty, and he was especially glad that he was avoiding scrutiny this morning as he quickly pulled on his drab olive training uniform.

The uniforms were one of the few other things that Køhler and he would agree on. They were _awful_. Made of a scratchy fabric the colour of green olives, they were horrendous to even stand still in, much less do arduous physical activity in. They consisted of a double-breasted jacket and long pants. Underneath, they were expected to wear thermals and then singlet shirts underneath those again. They were allowed to wear whatever shoes they wanted, which was a relief to Lukas as he pulled his new Venkater boots on. His feet would be warm at least.

Køhler looked like he was appreciating the temperatures today about as much as he had yesterday; his expression was stony, and his arms were wrapped firmly around his middle, shaking slightly. They had all been given thick wool socks and gloves, thankfully, so they weren't going to succumb to frostbite on their very first day, but it was clear that most of the people here weren't built for this level of cold. Lukas didn't find it pleasant, since they were a little underdressed for the weather, but he wasn't actively suffering either. There was an old adage he recalled hearing as a child. He didn't remember the exact wording, but the basic gist was that the cold didn't affect Bondeviks. He used to dismiss it as rubbish, but looking at how everyone else was shuddering while he himself felt fine, Lukas wondered if there was some truth to it as he quickly laced up his boots.

"Alright, everyone dressed?" a loud voice called out over the top of the low murmuring that filled the barracks. The noise quieted down as they all turned their attention to the doors. "Good. Let's move."

Sergeant Runar Kolden was the commanding officer for Block D, and by far seemed to be the most intense of them all. As Lukas had discovered, when a large enough batch of recruits had been collected, they were given aptitude testing that lasted several days, before being sorted into four groups, which corresponded with the Block that they were then sorted into. All four covered the basic skills required to be an effective soldier, but focussed slightly more on different areas.

Block A was for those with a strong combat background but who lacked on areas like strategy, survival skills and theoretical areas. They focussed on strengthening those areas. Block B was for those who came from a distinctly non-athletic background, who were good with theory and strategizing, and tried to give them some battlefield skills. Since their strengths were in battle strategy and command, they tended to follow lines of work such as that. Block C were the medics and helpers; people who didn't have the disposition to kill or take up active combat, but were able and willing to be involved in warzones and help others. They were also focussing on athleticism, since a medic that couldn't run fast wasn't much use. Block D was…everyone else. People who didn't have any remarkable skills but who wanted to help out with the rebellion. Lukas and Matthias had been placed there because it was the only block that didn't require additional testing that also had spaces left.

Ansel – Lukas' friendly bedfellow – had explained what happened after preliminary training. Most people from Block A were assigned to squads, to go into guerrilla warfare areas and take down the Union piece by piece. Block B tended to go into the areas of communication, technology, espionage, trade and command. Block C tended to go to areas to help refugees, former prisoners and wounded soldiers, as well as do supply runs. Block D were the foot soldiers sent wherever they were needed.

Lukas already knew what area he wanted to go into – he had heard numerous stories from Kari about the guerrilla fighters on Fynkn. They were the ones that travelled through Fynkn's more remote, dangerous areas; the ones who freed imprisoned civilians and helped set up outposts. The ones who engaged with the Union directly without the danger of open territory. He wanted to be one, badly, but he wasn't in Block A. He shouldn't worry, according to Ansel, since all of the commanding officers knew that he and Køhler had been placed here for sheer convenience, they would be judged as they went through the training, since they weren't evaluated prior to starting.

Well, hopefully they would be. According to Ansel, though Sergeant Kolden was a hardass, he was also a little on the lazy side, meaning that Lukas would have to try and really stand out if it meant getting into a guerrilla squad. He cracked his neck idly, internally snickering at the way Køhler wrinkled his nose in disgust at that, and followed the others out into the harsh sunlight.

The snow on the ground reflected the sun easily, which made the landscape unbelievably glary. Lukas squinted against the harsh light burning into his eyelids, sighing as the cold wind hit him a moment later. He found the change refreshing after spending a whole night inhaling other people's carbon dioxide, but everyone around him reacted with shock and disgust to the temperature.

He saw Køhler curl his lip in distaste as he folded his arms in an attempt to shield his body from the wind. His attention returned to the front as Sergeant Kolden began to speak.

"It is 0623 hours. It took you hopeless morons twenty-three whole minutes to get ready. By the time you are dispatched from here, I want you to be able to completely suit up in about five. Block A are already out doing their morning PT, and they were woken up at the same time as you!" the recruits at the front of the crowd winced. Sergeant Kolden did tend to speak on the loud side, and Lukas could hear him perfectly even while stuck solidly in the middle of the crowd. The volume at the front must be staggering.

"Your routine this morning involves a five-kilometre run marked out with red flags every thirty metres." He pointed out the start and finish line that had been marked out in the snow with black dye. "When you finish that, you will return here and do thirty sit-ups and fifty push-ups." He gestured to the wide space between the four barrack buildings. "Anyone outside the fastest fifty runners will do an extra ten of each. If you vomit, keep going. We don't have time to hold your hair back and pat your shoulder. Got it?" they all nodded, grumbling a little. "Alright, go!"

The group set out, some making the foolish decision of rushing ahead to try and avoid having to do the extra sit-ups and push-ups. Lukas rolled his eyes, settling into a pace that he knew he could maintain for the whole duration of the run. He had made a point of staying in shape over the years. It was what had helped him survive in the resistance. He swore that 96% of the people there had a six-pack, so being athletic had helped a lot, especially where his training with Nelia had been involved. He did miss meeting up with her every morning to spar. She was an excellent teacher, and his combat ability had increased ten-fold under her tutelage. Hopefully, while he was here, he would get to put what he had learned to the test.

The route that had been mapped out was actually rather scenic, Lukas noted. It gave a view of the lower mountain peaks that slipped on until the horizon, as well as some of the coniferous forest that they hadn't been able to see from above yesterday. In the far distance, he could see a glimmering silver shape that he guessed must be a lake, and admired the slender mountain peaks bracketed by wispy white clouds.

As they continued to run along the track, more and more people began to fall behind. Lukas passed people who were panting and puffing to a ridiculous extent. Lukas frowned a little at that. His chest was starting to get a little tight, but he knew that actual exhaustion wouldn't set in for quite a while. Running really wasn't that difficult, though he guessed that everyone's skill sets here were probably rather varied. By the time he passed the marker that indicated he only had a kilometre to go, he was almost completely alone on the track. He knew that he wasn't first, but he hoped that he was at least in the top twenty. He could definitely _do_ the extra exercises, but it wasn't him that _needed_ that workout.

He skidded to a stop at the black line they had started at, panting, only to look up and see that he was the second person back. Sergeant Kolden was there, of course, with a rather stupefied look on his face as he examined Lukas. Standing beside him, looking a little out of breath but not overly tired, was Køhler. Lukas cursed internally, his previous concerns about the differences in their physical capabilities returning to the fore of his mind. Køhler was decently taller than him, so part of his quicker time would have been due to his longer legs and consequently longer strides. His mind was still whirring over it as Kolden got over his shock and looked at the sheet he was holding.

"Christensen, second…alright then." He said, still sounding a little confused. Lukas raised an eyebrow, not sure if he should feel offended by that or not, but brushed it off. He didn't care nearly enough about Kolden to be worried about what his opinion of Lukas was. He turned away, making eye contact with Køhler who, in contrast to Kolden, looked a little impressed.

"Not bad Christensen." He commented, and Lukas was satisfied to hear that he was a little breathless. "I'm surprised you could keep up on those short little legs of yours."

Lukas gave him the finger, glowering. "And how the fuck did you get back so quickly, Køhler? I know that you aren't smart enough to have found a shortcut." The bounty hunter grinned.

"I was my school's long-distance running champion four years straight." He said, tone cocky. "I went to district competitions and everything. It's one of my many talents." Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think having an ego larger than the Feynir region counts as a talent." He shot back. Køhler just grinned again. God, he was infuriating. He was prevented from speaking further by the appearance of Block D's third-place runner. It was the mysterious girl that everyone respected, Riya Kristoff. Her expression looked unfazed, and her breathing didn't seem even remotely out of key. Lukas blinked. Sergeant Kolden looked like he had swallowed something very unpleasant as he wrote her name down. For a moment, Lukas wondered if the sergeant had something against her, but when the man turned a little, Lukas could see something in his expression that looked almost…sad.

"Nice job, Kristoff." The sergeant commented idly. Riya nodded simply, looking at Lukas and Køhler curiously before turning away and sitting in the snow, legs folded.

The rest of the runners trickled in slowly, until the last of them, sweating and cursing, appeared. Sergeant Kolden, obviously having recovered from the brief period where he showed actual kindness to a person, barked at them all to get to the meeting area and start their other exercises. Lukas, having enjoyed a good rest for about fifteen minutes or so, was unbothered as he did the prescribed sit-ups and push-ups, trying to ignore the sounds of grunting and complaining around him. He finished the exercises quickly – once again, though, slower than Køhler – and stood, ignoring the sergeant's curious gaze again as he marked things down on his clipboard.

"When you're done, go on to breakfast." Sergeant Kolden said, nodding them away absently. Lukas rolled his back but sighed in relief, not even realising that he had fallen into step beside Køhler.

"You're fitter than you look." Køhler noted absently, hands shoved in his pockets and shoulders hunched forward. Lukas hummed. "Not as fit as me, of course." Køhler continued after a moment, tone arrogant. Lukas rolled his eyes, elbowing the bounty hunter hard in the side.

"You know, you could have exempted the second part and actually just given me a compliment." Lukas said. "Is it not in your nature to be a nice person?" Køhler made a face.

"You say that like you would pay me compliments all the time."

"I'm not the sort of person to do that." Lukas said idly. "But, just to show you how it's meant to be done, fine. You have excellent form while you run. I saw you at the beginning of the track." Køhler shot him a look – evidently, he was actually surprised.

"I know." The taller man said after a while. Lukas rolled his eyes again – he seemed to be doing that a lot recently.

"Moron." He sighed. Køhler gave him an egotistical grin.

"Jackass." He replied cheerfully.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
21st Jaune_

Yao couldn't sleep.

He shouldn't have been surprised – it was hardly an unusual occurrence, or anything even approaching revolutionary, but for some reason his insomnia was proving especially unbearable tonight. He sat up in bed, dragging his hands over his face and groaning. He despised not being able to sleep, especially when he _wanted_ to.

He stood, being careful to minimise noise even though he was completely alone. He rubbed at his eyes, combing loose locks of hair back from his face as he pondered briefly over what could have woken him. He had been drifting in and out of sleep for a few hours now, and the switching was proving to be more irritating than just staying awake all night.

It probably wouldn't have too serious of an effect on him, anyway. He might have some dark bags that Ayshe or Octavia would chastise him over, but he probably wouldn't even feel too tired. He had been needing less and less sleep lately, which was an irritation to Octavia but a delight to him.

He untied his hair from the loose braid that it was still stuck in, combing his fingers through it absently. He hungered for something to do, but knew that his options would be limited at this time of night. Yao glanced at the clock. 3:31am. Yes, he was probably the only non-night shift person awake right now. He had sacrificed some of his night-time duties to other officials like Aelia Gabras, Jamael Laroussi and Mohammed Hassan at Ayshe and Kabeeta's combined request. They had chastised him consistently over how little sleep he got, and how he needed to take better care of himself. He had surrendered because he knew how stubborn they were, and didn't want to fight such intimidating women. Well, he had also agreed because he couldn't stand to see that concerned look in Ayshe's eyes, but that was irrelevant.

His head jerked to the side, heart fluttering, as he heard a noise from outside. A low rustling met his ears and he swallowed, alarm flaring up. It was probably only animals moving around – they were in the wilderness, after all – but it could also be something more sinister. Moving carefully and quietly, he reached for the stand of weaponry that stood close to his bed, and withdrew one of the traditional _jian_ knives that sat on top. His heart was hammering as he slowly drew one section of his tent open.

The area around his tent was empty, and he cursed, letting himself relax infinitesimally as he stepped outside and did a quick lap of his tent. There was no-one there, and he couldn't even spot the animal that had likely made the noises in the first place. He scowled, glaring at the nearby bushes as if they had personally inflicted harm on him. He was becoming paranoid. His alarm system would have gone off if someone had stepped through the perimeter anyway. Yao lowered the knife and rubbed his face. Perhaps he did need sleep. More rustling met the edges of his earshot, but a quick glance in the direction he thought they were coming from yielded the view of another empty stretch of dirt speckled with small plants.

Maybe he could see Kabeeta about getting some medication to help him sleep. She would certainly welcome him seeking out help for such a thing. He was always so reluctant to talk to anyone about what he was going through. He surveyed the ground again. Maybe he could get some of the bushes near his tent removed. If he was going to be so sensitive that simple rustling would wake him, it might be best if he removed the distraction at it's source. Resolving to do both of those things later in the day, he retreated back into his tent, ignoring the rustling that continued as he walked back inside.

* * *

"Sleeping medication?" Kabeeta asked, looking surprised. "I can't say that I was expecting this…you're normally so reluctant to admit that anything is wrong."

Yao sighed, wringing his gloved hands together, absently recalling how warm Ayshe's hand had been on his when she had pulled his glove off. He did hate showing his hands off to people, but he felt like he would hate it a little less if she had her hand slotted into one of his.

"Yes, I know, Kabeeta, but I think that if I'm no longer going to actively work at night, I might as well sleep like how you and Ayshe are always bugging me to do." Kabeeta smiled.

"I agree, but I'm happy to see you finally following my advice." She chuckled. "Did she threaten you with death again?" Yao smiled.

"No, she didn't, but I thought…well, she bugs me about it all the time. I might as well put her mind at peace, if nothing else." Kabeeta smiled, expression warm and open in every sense of the word.

"I see. You really love her, don't you?" Yao inhaled sharply, trying to conceal the extent of his shock at Kabeeta's statement.

"I don't think that's an appropriate way of looking at it-" he said. Kabeeta waved a hand dismissively, effortlessly cutting him off.

"I know what I said." Kabeeta said. "I wasn't the one who made the assumption that I was referring to romantic love, though." Yao sighed, trying to ignore the victorious look on her face.

"I despise you." He sighed as the doctor laughed.

"Yes, I'm sure you do." She replied as she shuffled around some small vials of pills on the shelves, pulling some down and examining their labels. "I wouldn't stress about it, though. The feeling is obviously mutual, though whether you want to act on it or not is up to you two." Yao looked over at her, frowning slightly.

"What do you mean?" Kabeeta shrugged.

"The relationship dynamic that you two have would work regardless of the _nature_ of your relationship. Whatever feels right to you is what you should do. Don't try to force anything. You guys are so close that it would take something pretty huge to ever break you apart, though." He sighed, thinking over her words as she extracted a bottle from the shelf and made a small, victorious noise before tossing it to him. "This should work."

Yao skimmed the label before nodding, curling his fingers around the pill bottle. "Got it. Thanks, Kabeeta." She smiled warmly.

"Any time, Yao."

He stowed the bottle in his pocket, letting his eyes adjust to the glare for a moment as he stepped outside. His thoughts strayed towards Lukas and Matthias Køhler. He had no idea what was going to happen on Fynkn; from now until the day that one or both of them came back, he was blind. He had no spies on Fynkn – he trusted Galina Hansen enough that he didn't think he needed them. Even asking Galina about what was going on down there would make her suspicious. She knew about his talent for and love of schemes, so she would immediately try to sniff out anyone planted by the resistance. They respected each other a lot, but Galina was never a fan of mysteries.

He groaned quietly. While he was happy to be giving Lukas the opportunity to fight for his people and (hopefully) be giving Mr Køhler an opportunity to change the views he had of the resistance and the Union, the whole situation was out of his hands now.

"Yao!" his head jerked up as he spun, already knowing who was calling as he felt himself instinctively relaxing and his expression softening. Ayshe ran up to him, smiling gently. He couldn't help but smile as well.

"Ayshe." He said, dipping his head a little jokingly. "What can I help you with?" she grinned.

"Is it wrong for me to want to spend time with my best friend?" she asked, tone warm and eyes sparkling. Yao had to force himself to look away, he was so enraptured by her happiness for a moment. He smiled.

"No, I suppose not." He mused. "How have the assignments over on Xexei been doing?" Ayshe nodded.

"Very well. I have a source who indicates that they might have found a slave wanting to join up." Yao nodded.

"We'll have to look into that. Even if they change their mind later, it's still worth trying to help free them anyway." Ayshe nodded.

"That's what I was thinking." She said, smiling. "What about you? Have you been feeling better?" Yao rolled his eyes playfully at her.

"I was never sick in the first place, you know." He said. "Just a little hyper, I think." Ayshe raised an eyebrow, reaching up to poke at his hair.

"Not hyper enough to remember to clean your hair, obviously." She snorted. "Come on, Yao, I swear your self-care has degraded immensely in the last few months." Yao frowned, reaching up to also feel his hair. He felt like he had washed it recently, but a quick examination in a nearby mirror made his nose wrinkle a little. Clearly, he was already in need of another shower. He shook it off.

"Well, I do have something that might cheer you up a little." He said, pulling the bottle of pills from his pocket and showing them to her. Ayshe blinked, looking confused for a moment before she read the label.

"…used to treat _sleeping difficulties and insomnia_ …Yao!" she exclaimed the last word, looking delighted as he stowed the bottle away again. "Really?" he sighed, nodding.

"I figured…well…you wanted me to sleep more anyway, and since I have no more night duties…I might as well…" he trailed off. Ayshe looked so touched that he felt his stomach flip pleasantly. Her expression melted into a smile and she moved over and looped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him. He smiled, relaxing immediately as he hugged her back.

"I'm proud of you." She murmured into his ear. "I know it isn't easy to ask for help." He sighed.

"It…it isn't. Thank you, Ayshe."

"You're very welcome."

* * *

 _Travel Office, Mina District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
21st Jaune_

Lovino scowled, expression growing more and more irritated as he noted the sheer number of people at the transit office that morning. He had no clue why so many people were suddenly keen to leave Bibesti, but he had never seen numbers like this; the queue to get into the travel office backed out into the street and halfway around the block. He cursed. The office closed in an hour – there was no way that he would be able to get served before then. He wasn't the only one feeling anxious. The back half of the line all had drawn expressions and tense shoulders.

He frowned. There was obviously something going on here that he didn't know about – it couldn't be just that the office had a sale going on and everyone here wanted in. Lovino had been around this area at peak hour and barely half the people had been around. Another detail that caught his eye was the appearance of most people in the line. Unlike what he normally saw at offices for inter-national or inter-planetary travel, these people looked…like him. They looked _poor_. So why were they all looking to go on vacation?

He sighed. He only had four days until the Zephyrak's deadline, and, as much as he hated to bow to her demands, he didn't want to put Feliciano or himself in danger needlessly. They had spent a lot of time on Rela, but the woman was right about one thing – it was dangerous for them to spend a lot of time anywhere, much less to settle and get comfortable. They had even been reckless enough to use their real names (bar the surname) while living here. They might have leased and continued to rent their apartment under false names, but all of the people who knew them knew them by their real names.

Lovino would have whipped himself for that, had he not remembered exactly what it had been like when they'd arrived in Rela. He had been _fourteen_ ; Feliciano _eleven_ , and he had been sick of running and hiding. He had known not to lease their apartment under a name even remotely similar to his real one, but when he had introduced himself to their neighbour Sadik, he had slipped up and used his real name. No consequences had ever come of it, so he hadn't seen the harm.

He got the feeling that he had made a mistake in using his real name with Vash. The assassin was calculating to a fault. Lovino didn't doubt that he knew they were Syhvvanian – given that he knew their real names and ages, as well, he probably knew that they were royalty as well. There wasn't really anything he could do about it, though. Vash had been missing for months on his mission with the group who had sought him out, and Lovino was yet to have anyone come after his head (exempting the Zephyrak, of course), so he didn't think that the man cared much for telling the Union about them.

He stretched up on his toes, wishing that he were only a few inches taller so he could see if the cause of the frenzy was at the ticket office. It didn't look any different to normal, though. He frowned. What was going on here? He sighed, glancing at the people in the line. They all looked desperate to get to the front, even though the majority likely wouldn't. Pushing down his dislike of strangers, he approached a man in the line.

"Oi." He asked. The man spun to face him, looking a little afraid as he took in Lovino's rough appearance. Lovino forced himself to relax his shoulders and make his resting scowl a little more neutral. "What the hell is going on? Why is everyone so desperate to get a ticket out of Bibesti?" the man stared at him a moment before his jaw slackened a little.

"You haven't heard?" the man said, expression crumpling into something fearful and wary. "Local travel ministers have been saying that there are pirates incoming in the next few days." Lovino frowned. Rela had planet-wide atmosphere guards. How on earth would pirates be able to get in? He asked as much, and the man sighed. "They mostly have light-weight starships, so they can rush right past all of the security. Not to mention, the High Council allows them three days of free reign per year in exchange for a policy of complete avoidance for the rest of the time." Lovino blinked.

He had heard about the 'Three Day Reign' before, but he and Feliciano had never been present on Rela for it, or, if they had been, they hadn't been in Bibesti. He had known that it was something that no one enjoyed, and so had maintained a reasonable distance whenever it approached. And he had certainly not known that it involved pirates.

"Alright." He said slowly. "So why is everyone booking it right now? I mean no offence, but I don't think that 99% of the people here can afford it." The man sighed, running a hand over his thinning hair.

"We can't, but in the last two years, they've almost exclusively targeted Rela's poorest sections. Since we don't have as much security, it's a lot easier to loot and rape and murder in the poor sectors. Say, where do you live?" Lovino hesitated a moment.

"Uhh, Szwicza." Lovino hunched his shoulder as the people around him, who had obviously been listening in, turned bodily to gawk at him. The man blinked, looking horrified, before reaching out to seize his arm.

"My god, you need to get out! They always go for Szwizca above all other districts. The danger there will be tenfold what it normally is!" Lovino sucked in a breath as the words registered, and he felt his stomach turn over. The man looked over at the office. "Maybe if we explain your situation-"

"Alright, that's it, we're ceasing trading hours for today!" one of the workers in the shop yelled out, prompting a chorus of responses ranging from angry to frustrated to scared to hysterical. Lovino stepped away from the crowd as it swelled and surged forward, countless people trying to restore their hope of leaving the city before the pirates descended on it. Lovino slowly turned to the man, who was watching the ticket office with dismay, but not making a effort to rush forwards with everyone else.

"Sir…" he trailed off. "When are they expected to come? The pirates, I mean?" the man looked over at him, expression sad.

"The…25th? I think?" Lovino swallowed, tasting acid on his tongue.

The world really hated him, didn't it?

* * *

 _Onboard the SS Larcenist,  
Outer Space  
22nd Jaune_

The woman consulted her watch, humming softly to herself as she registered the time. Only a few more days. Only a few more days. _Only a few more days._

It was going to be so much fun this year. Bibesti was always a radiant city, and it saddened her somewhat that everyone closed themselves up whenever she and her crew came knocking around. It was nice, though, not having police step in to stop her from having her fun.

They tended to get involved if a Relusian citizen was in dire danger of losing life or limb, or if they were going a little bit overboard, but other than that, they let she and her crew have a lot of fun. Of course, it helped that they liked to target the poorest regions of Bibesti rather than somewhere like, say, the Veroda district. People also made such a fuss when rich people got gutted, but the poor? They could have been cannon fodder for all that the rich cared. She grinned. Ah, the apathy of the wealthy. It was a beautiful thing at times.

She sighed. The Three Day Reign was quickly shaping up to be the highlight of her year. She had seen no-one but her crew members, their prisoners and their victims for so long, she felt like she was going insane. She missed her friends; other pirate Captains who knew what it was like to have to break up fights with their surbordinates and try to divvy up the spoils of a good fight equally while still showing clear favour to certain underlings.

She would have killed to even have run into someone she didn't like much. Cahya Maharani was a bitch but saints, did she have some good stories. She had gone to the Red Pike more often than she usually did – the swanky anchorage held a bar that was frequented by the best pirates in the business, but the most pleasant of the faces she normally saw there had all been absent.

She had made arrangements to see if she had anyone of interest to sell to Jack, but that appointment was still weeks and weeks and weeks away. She missed her rough friend. Not to mention Arthur. The sour Pyndaphian was one of the people she found most bearable, yet he seemed to have dropped off everyone's radars in Fybwari, along with his entire crew.

She rolled her neck, picking at the sleeves of her elaborate red coat. She adored the thing, but hadn't had the chance to show Arthur or Jack yet. They would both approve. They shared her flair for drama.

"Captain Dirie?" A voice behind her said. She spun, facing one of her newer recruits, who looked nearly scared to death to be speaking to her directly. How cute.

"Yes?" she asked, tone casual but laced with danger – it would do this little one good to remember to show her deference. He blanched, hands shaking a little. She smiled slightly, which only seemed to make him even more scared.

"I-I apolog-gise for d-disturbing you, uh, b-but you have an uh-upcoming call with B-Bibesti's travel m-minister soon." She smiled, reaching out to gently pat the man's cheek, making sure her long, sharp nails grazed his skin a little.

"Thank you, darling." She purred. "I'll be right there." She dug the sharp edges of her nails slightly into his cheek, smile deepening as she saw five small spots of blood appear on his cheek. To his credit, he didn't flinch, wince or make a single noise, though his face did go even more pale. She retracted her hand and waved him off, sticking her slightly bloody nail-tips into her mouth as he turned and verifiably bolted for the exit. The taste of metal filled her mouth, and she grinned.

Bibesti would prove a worthy pillage, indeed.


	15. Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

**Whattup all, time for another chapter! This one is a doozy so yall had better be comfortable before you get into this. 8936 words is a lot!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Matthias and Lukas started their preliminary training on Fynkn. They both already stand out as being physically capable. Among the colourful characters of the training camp are Kors Justsen, a brawler in Block A, and a mysterious girl named Riya Kristoff.**  
 **\- Yao has been having trouble sleeping, due to being woken by sounds outside his tent. He got some sleeping medication to help, which Kabeeta and Ayshe were very happy about.**  
 **\- Lovino tried to get tickets off Rela, only to find the offices overrun with people trying to flee what is known as the 'Three Days' Reign' - a 72-hour period where pirates are allowed to pillage as they please in exchange for staying away the rest of the year.**  
 **\- One sadistic pirate captain anticipates the beginning of the reign, hoping to find something good in Bibesti**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Mentions of murder and other crimes. Some combat scenes.**

 **I AM ALWAYS A SLUT FOR REVIEWS!**

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
23rd Jaune_

Matthias was seriously beginning to think that Lukas Bondevik wasn't human, and he had only known him for about six days. The guy was just…offputting. In almost every sense of the word. He was odd to be around for long periods of time, and sadly, 'long periods of time spent around Lukas Bondevik' was essentially his new job description.

The guy could just be oddly…robotic? That was the best way that Matthias could think to himself to describe it. He had believed, initially, that he could at least have some fun in winding the guy up; their very first meeting had indicated that he wasn't always so cool and composed, but as the days here had passed, the Fynknian had emotionally withdrawn even more and more. He still engaged in the little habit that the two of them had gotten into with insulting each other. Bondevik would begin every one of these little interactions by calling Matthias a moron, and he would respond in a timely manner and call the prince a jackass.

But the rest of the time? Bondevik put his head forward and did the tasks they were told to do by Sergeant Kolden, and did them to the best of his ability, as well. He didn't rise to the bait when Matthias teased him; in fact, he rarely engaged him in conversation anymore. Matthias couldn't say that he missed the insults, glares and frequent rude gestures that the prince used to aim in his direction, but, given that it was his job to look after someone who barely spoke to him, he found himself actually feeling a little lonely.

The other recruits were nice enough; Ansel, who had the bunk between Bondevik and himself, was always a good conversationalist, and he had even somewhat befriended the muscular brawler from Block A known as Kors Justsen, who had looked horrified and insulted by the fact that Matthias had been put in Block D.

"Screw the convenience!" Kors had yelled, slapping Matthias on the back. "You should be up in Block A with us! We're the ones who _actually_ know how to fight, after all!" Matthias had shrugged at that, but laughed along with them. The people in Block A were far more his cup of tea, in all honesty. He knew that he was probably just missing his friends and projecting onto the people around him, but he felt a lot more home with them. Bondevik was the irritating blot at the edge of his vision, always there and not necessarily bothering him but existing as a distraction nonetheless. Every time that he started to enjoy himself a little, or feel a little more accepted by the people around him, he would remember exactly _why_ he was there. He was on Fynkn in the first place to protect the little prince, and as irritating an oath as it was, he had agreed to it.

And he had no way of getting out of his promise, either, save dying. He had sworn to fulfil his assigned duty in protecting the prince in exchange for his friends' freedom, and he was going to follow through with it no matter how unpleasant and offputting his charge could be. Matthias was gradually getting more irritated by the situation, though, because, from what he had seen, Bondevik didn't _need_ anyone to protect him. The guy was a good six inches shorter than him, and also about 18 kilograms lighter, but he nipped at Matthias' heels in every exercise that they did. If the kid got some proper food in him and did a little more endurance training, Matthias didn't doubt that he could probably beat him. It really was impressive, given what he had gathered thus far about the prince's life up to this point.

Admittedly, it was very easy to pity him. Yes, he might have been royalty, and raised in decadence unimaginable to most people for the first eight years of his life, but the minute that was over, he had endured things a lot harder than what most others would ever face.

Most of the other recruits had looked shocked and a little sympathetic when Bondevik had admitted that he had been shuttled off-world during the Expansion. From what Matthias had been told, though it seemed backwards, being outside of Fynkn had actually been an objectively worse situation than staying put. Ansel had tried to explain it to him.

"Well, basically, yeah, you're away from the Union, but you're still being hunted down just as much. It's illegal for Fynknians to reside anywhere except for Fynkn, or to leave the planet without express permission, which is never given, mind you, so anyone off-world is actually committing a crime. They kill some people if they find them far away enough. Here, though, if you keep your head down and do whatever they want you to, you'll generally be left alone. Not to mention, well, anyone off of Fynkn would be completely cut off from the rest of their life. Friends, family, culture, language…all of it. You would have to constantly hide who you were, or always be on the move. If you're on Fynkn, you at least still have your home and your loved ones with you, and if you work hard you can provide for yourself. The vast majority of escapees that I've met, though, they say that they constantly suffered from homelessness or poverty or even starvation. It's not a situation that I would want to be in, so I salute him for surviving that."

Judging by Bondevik's slender frame and smaller-than-average height, starvation and malnutrition had definitely been part of his past; likely to a large extent, to have influenced him as much as it had. The kid was only nineteen, but still. Matthias couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. Being one of the only two surviving members of the royal family would have made everything harder by tenfold. Ansel had explained how even members of low-ranked noble families had had to constantly run and always stay on their toes and look out for enemies. Being royalty would have been harder still, not to mention that, unlike the vast majority of escapees, Bondevik hadn't had an adult to help him.

It did soften Matthias' view of the cold prince somewhat, and did explain in part why he was reticent to a fault and so unwilling to even make light conversation most of the time, but Matthias supposed that he could have turned out worse than he did.

His cold nature reminded Matthias of one of the other interesting people in Block D; Riya Kristoff. She was very physically fit, normally coming in third to Matthias and Bondevik's own first and second placements in physical exercises, but exceedingly quiet.

She was one of the few Fynknians that Matthias had seen who didn't have blond hair. According to Ansel, she was reportedly part-Syhvvanian, which Matthias found easy to believe. Her hair was a dark, dull burgundy that was normally pulled up into a simple ponytail. Her skin was shockingly pale, even more so than the other, fully Fynknian recruits, and her eyes were the colour of ice chips; such a light, bright and cool blue that it was hard to look at them for too long. Her features were petite and almost elvish, but almost always drawn and stern in a way that made her face look longer than it was. He hadn't seen her crack a smile or laugh once since she had been here. Granted, Bondevik did the same, but with her, it felt deeper, as if she couldn't force herself to feel the happiness necessary to smile. Matthias had asked Ansel exactly what her deal was, but he had just winced.

"It's not a pleasant story. I don't really want to go and tell it, at least not right now."

Matthias had dropped the issue, but the girl was certainly a curiosity. He had heard the term _de fengslinger_ thrown around her a lot, but he wasn't entirely sure what it meant. Matthias spoke fluent Fynknian, yes, but from what he could see, that word was a recent development in the language. He could easily identify the root of the word – _fengsling_ , which meant detention, but even with that context he didn't know exactly what they were talking about. He had shrugged it off after a brief period of curiosity. It didn't really matter that much, he supposed. She had never done anything to him, after all, and he had nothing against her, so why get involved?

Matthias sighed, digging his hands into the deep bough of snow in front of him, seeking out the dummies that they had been told to search for. They were simulating avalanche rescues, and while it was undeniably useful, he was starting to get sick of kneeling in the snow and feeling his knees and shins slowly go numb. He dug down more, sighing in relief when he was able to pull out the dummy he had been looking for.

He glanced across the stretch of snow-coated land that everyone else was scattered around. This was one of the first exercises that he hadn't been first to finish in. That had been Bondevik, for once, though Matthias suspected cheating on his part. The guy could control water – he had probably just mentally sifted through the snow until he had located the dummy-sized gap. The prince was sitting by the side, looking thoroughly bored. Another two were finished as well, but by their own admission, they both had been involved in rescue operations before, so they knew exactly what signs to look for and how to locate survivors in a disaster zone.

Matthias trudged over to them, tossing his dummy onto the small pile the others had started with a satisfying thwack before slumping down in the snow with the others. One of the former rescue workers struck up a conversation which he engaged in enthusiastically, and happily gave him tips and what signs to look for. He listened with interest as the rest of the group trickled over, with the last few receiving a strike across the back of the head and a lecture – as was customary for Kolden – before they were all nudged to their feet and urged back towards the meeting area.

Once they had all arranged themselves into messy but serviceable lines, Sergeant Kolden began to speak.

"Alright. As you may be aware, from this day onward, you only have another five weeks of preliminary training before you will be assigned to specific areas. For some of you, those assignments will mean doing espionage. For some others, it will mean meeting the Union head on in the field. From now until the day you will be assigned, you will be run off your goddamn feet. It will make these last three weeks look like a breezy summer camp. For that reason, you've all been given the afternoon off to have a last little relax and spend time with your significant others or families before you enter the most gruelling section of your training. So, go on, and enjoy yourselves while you still have the chance to. Dismissed."

The lines dissolved, most people darting over to their friends to delightedly discuss this new development, while some others absolutely _booked_ it out of the meeting place, obviously off to see people or have fun with the free time they had been given. Matthias rolled his shoulder back gently. He had no relatives to see, and the people he was most friendly with were in Block A, so he wasn't entirely sure what to do with himself.

His eyes lingered briefly on Riya Kristoff for a moment out of pure curiosity, before his gaze wandered and fell on Bondevik. The nineteen-year-old looked a little annoyed, completely in contrast to everyone else, and turned on his heel to march off. Matthias sighed. They hadn't spoken since the day before yesterday, and as much as he dreaded it, he should be able to at least hold a conversation with the guy before they were assigned to spend months together.

"Oi jackass." He said, wandering towards him with his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Why the sour look? Are you allergic to holidays?" the prince stilled, expression darkening.

"Must you try to rile me up at every opportunity?" the Fynknian snapped, eyes cold. "It's so immature I'm amazed that your friends didn't try to re-enrol you in primary school. Assuming that you ever went in the first place, of course, though that might be a bit too much for you to handle." Matthias frowned, feeling a small amount of anger surge up inside. Okay, yes, he liked to tease, but it really wasn't worth such a harsh reaction.

"I was just wondering." He said, hoping that the prince couldn't hear the small amount of hurt in his voice. "You looked so fucking miserable I guess I was curious as to why. Annoyed that you don't have any family to run off to?"

Matthias' brain only caught up with his mouth after the words had already been said, and god, did he feel like the world's biggest ass when he realised what exactly he had just blurted out. He liked to think that he was the sort of person who knew what lines were unacceptable to cross, but given that he had just taken a running leap over the line designated for fucking _orphans_ , he was probably wrong about that.

Bondevik, at first, didn't look like he was going to react. He was still, frame locked up tightly. His expression didn't look like it was going to change. For a moment, it looked like he, similar to Matthias, was in complete disbelief at what sentence had just been said. But, alas, he quickly absorbed Matthias' words. His expression changed so subtly that he wondered if he had been watching properly, but with the adjustment of just a few muscles, his expression shifted from bemused and neutral to cold and harsh.

"No, Køhler, I don't. In case you're yet to be educated about what happened during the Expansion, they were murdered. I guess you don't have that same problem, though, given how freely you talk about it." Matthias stared at him, certain that his horror at his own words was showing on his face and desperately wishing that he could go back in time a few seconds and punch himself in the face. He knew that he could be tone-deaf at times, but this far outstripped his idiocy from the past.

"I…" he trailed off, fumbling mentally and trying to figure what on earth he could say to at least somewhat save the situation. "I am _so_ sorry, I did _not_ mean that…" Bondevik watched him callously.

"Then why say it?" the prince asked, tone cold and sharp as the knife strapped to his thigh. Matthias stuttered helplessly.

"I…I don't know…I'm an _idiot_ …" he trailed off again. Bondevik watched him for a long moment, before raising his hand and briefly clenching it into a fist. A shot of cold sliced through Matthias' nose, abruptly replaced by heat as blood started to run down his face. He realised with a shock what had happened. The guy had snap-frozen the blood in his nose, making it expand and consequently burst the vessel walls before melting it again. Matthias let out a yelp, hand flying up to his face. Bondevik lowered his fist, expression shifting ever so slightly. Suddenly, he didn't look half as scary as he did sad. With a shock that hit him harder than his intense nosebleed, Matthias realised that he might have actually _hurt_ the icy Fynknian.

Bondevik turned on his heel and marched away, Matthias watching him hopelessly. It seemed that, rather than try and preserve the few positive interactions that they had been able to have, he had carelessly sunk the ship that was their burgeoning acquaintance.

* * *

Lukas knew that Matthias Køhler couldn't read minds, nor could he detect the emotions of those around him. He certainly couldn't read the smallest inflections on the planes of other peoples' faces, or even make a guess at what was bothering them deep down.

Yet, somehow, in that small, simple comment about Lukas' parents, he had somehow cut through right to what had been bothering Lukas ever since they landed on Fynkn.

He had thought that being on his home planet, the place where he was born and raised before the Union so rudely busted down their door and took away everything that he had known up to that point, would have put his worries at rest. He had assumed that the restlessness that plagued him at times would finally go away now that he had a role and a place to perform it. He had thought that the ghosts which he had dragged all over the Galaxy might finally be put to sleep.

He had been idiotic to think such a thing. The ghosts that had been haunting him were born here. Why on earth would they leave him alone now that he was closer to them than ever?

He had been experienced small instances of déjà vu at first – small things concerning the weather or food or even topics of conversation, and that had been bearable, enjoyable even. It had reinforced that this was his _home_. This was his planet, his culture, his _people_. Yes, Lukas had enjoyed the déjà vu at first. But it had quickly progressed into something more. His life prior to the Expansion had changed from being a side thought to occupying the brunt of his thoughts.

But last night had been the worst night of all. He had relived things that he wanted nothing more than to bury once and for all. It had been years since he had dreamed of the night that his parents died, but last night he had experienced it all over again.

And with Lukas, dreams were never normal – they were always lucid, and if they weren't memories or even sequences that verged on psychic, they were the frightening things that his mind plucked from the heads of people around him. For years, he had only really accidentally stolen dreams from Emilia's head, and maybe the occasional homeless person if they were sleeping rough, but he hadn't had so many heads to pluck things from in years. He had initially been afraid that he would take too much from his comrades' heads, but after his memories of the Expansion had started to well and truly brighten and repeat in his head, he had wished that he was stealing other peoples' thoughts and imaginations.

Astrid and Oskar Bondevik had always been a tough topic of conversation with Lukas. He loved them, of course he did, but he also recognised that they had been deeply flawed human beings – he himself was one. He missed them, but thought that he had come to terms with their deaths and how they had died years ago. So why were their memories still haunting him, even now?

He wasn't even that angry at Køhler – he was big and dumb and clumsy in his words, but Lukas had been able to detect his emotions throughout their encounter. He had meant his apology, and quite frankly, the sheer amount of regret and guilt the bounty hunter had felt after making that remark was staggering. He meant well, and Lukas knew that, but he would give it a few days before trying to talk to him again.

He sighed. He had found himself a small ledge near Block B to sit and ponder life on, and was rather enjoying the view. He remembered the exact wording of Køhler's remark; _Annoyed that you don't have any family to run off to?_

That wasn't entirely true, he mused. The presence of Anga Lindholm when they had been processed was proof enough of that. He remembered her words when Køhler had remarked on her abilities. _You should see my nieces._

He had never been very well acquainted with her nieces – they were his second cousins, so the relation wasn't very strong, not to mention that they had never lived in Oslaholm, and had always been a few years older than him. He had only met them a few times before the Expansion. Lukas shrugged it off. They wouldn't recognise him now, and even if their abilities were stronger than he remembered, he would make sure to make himself verifiably invisible to them.

Lukas ran a hand through his hair. He felt so _tired_. Not necessarily physically, but definitely emotionally. This week had been rather taxing on him, though he knew that things were about to get a lot harder. He would force himself through it, though. He needed to get into one of those guerrilla squads, and he also needed Køhler to get himself into one as well. He tilted his head and surveyed the landscape absently, gaze drawn away when he saw a flash of warm colours among all the blue, white and grey.

It was the quiet girl from Block D. Riya Kristoff was seated on one of the other ledges of the building, knees drawn up to her chest and her expression pensive. He watched her for a moment. She was about fifty metres away from him, and didn't seem to have noticed his presence. He gently nudged at her mind, subtly prompting her to realise that she wasn't alone. Her head snapped up, looking around and spotting him within a moment or two. Her gaze was harder to stand than he had expected. Lukas hesitated a moment, before slowly raising his hand and waving in greeting. Kristoff looked baffled for a moment before she also raised her hand and mirrored the gesture.

Lukas lowered his arm and stood, moving back towards the stairs to go down to the ground. She seemed like a person best left to their own thoughts.

* * *

 _Szwicza District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
25th Jaune_

Lovino could feel his heart hammering incessantly in his chest. His head felt as though his brain was pushing itself against the inside of his skull, and his stomach was twisting unpleasantly. He had felt sick and out of order ever since he had woken up this morning.

It was the day. Their deadline. The day that the Zephyrak had told them to get out of Rela by. They had no tickets to get off the planet or even out of the city, barely enough money to buy a transit into the atmosphere, and less than eight hours until the day was up. They were out of options and time. The only thing that Lovino could really think to do was to sneak onto a ship, but even then, that would be difficult. Back in Janwir, after he had killed two guards upon their return from Incanda, security had been heightened around all ports, making it almost impossible to stow away on a ship.

He cursed. He had made Feliciano stuff his most important possessions into a small rucksack, and had done the same himself, but even with all their belongings packed away, they were at a standstill. He had no clue what he was meant to do now. Feliciano shared his obvious concern and anxiety, but he had been spending all morning trying to calm Lovino down.

"I'm sure it will all be fine, _fratello_ , I mean…it'll be hard to get onto a ship, but we can at least try, right?" Lovino sighed. He had been to every travel office around. All ships were jam-packed with people trying to get away from Bibesti before the impending pirates could drop in, so there was not a single vessel with spare seats. Perhaps the Zephyrak had been trying to help, in a roundabout way, by getting them out before the Three Day's Reign, but she had also made it hard for an impoverished guy like him to get any reasonable transport away from Rela by giving him the deadline that she did.

He let out a shuddering sigh. "Feli, you know I appreciate your optimism, a lot, but right now, it is _really_ misplaced." Feliciano fell silent, dropping onto the couch next to Lovino.

"I know it is." He murmured. "But…we can't just give up now, can we?" Lovino shrugged. He was _tired;_ tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of being forced out and uprooted every time he felt remotely safe, tired of being someone and something that he wasn't. He wanted to go home, but he hadn't one for years now. They were being forced to leave the one place that they had really settled, and Syhvva hadn't really felt like home since before their parents died.

He really just wished that there was someone else to tell him what to do. He wished that he had parents to order him around and chide him when he made a mistake or was unnecessarily cruel to his brother. He wished that he didn't have to be responsible for everything all the time. Lovino was an independent person, but sometimes, even he just wanted to be a follower, rather than planner, leader and authority figure all in one.

Even as a child, he had been made to be more independent. His parents' deaths, and especially that of his mother, had left a power void. It had been up to the people to either choose him, a mere four-year-old boy at the time, or his aging grandfather, to take up rule of Syhvva in her stead. The people had, of course, swung in the favour of his grandfather, not necessarily because they had any ill will against him, but because they thought it absurd to burden a child with so much power and responsibility.

The move had made the one parental figure that Lovino and Feliciano had left in a constant state of busyness, exhaustion and at times, anger. He hadn't wanted to spend time with the child who so reminded him of his deceased daughter – Lovino's resemblance to her was absolutely extraordinary – and so had generally avoided them. Feliciano had been his favourite, which had never bothered Lovino so much, but there was a big difference between favouring one child over another and spending time with only one and completely excluding the other.

He had accepted the excuses at first. _He's still mourning your mother. You look so much like her it can be hard for him. Feliciano is only a baby, he needs more attention because he's so little. You're a big boy now, aren't you? Don't you worry about it, Prince Lovino. You have studies to do anyway_. But after a while, the reasons that Romulus Vargas had for outright avoiding his oldest grandchild became a little less clear. Lovino came to understand that the distance that he had mandated between them when he was a child had turned into a general disinterest, bordering on apathy.

Lovino could have endured that. He had his brother, who still looked at him like he was the one who got the sun to wake up in the morning, and the palace staff had always been very kind and nurturing towards him. He had been very close friends with Lukas Bondevik as well, and the Fynknian prince had visited a lot, often bringing his wonderful parents in tow. They treated him so kindly that he often was left counting down the days until their next visit. He could have endured his grandfather's disinterest with him because he had people who had cared.

But the problem with his grandfather was that he had tended to believe the worst palace reports about Lovino's behaviour, no matter how infrequent they were. Lovino would act up once in a blue moon, and yet those occasions were the only times that his grandfather chose to pay attention. A streak of perfect behaviour and excellent grades in his schooling for ten months straight weren't of interest to Romulus Vargas. A single instance in which lovino had lost his temper or sent sparks shooting from his fingers when he was specifically banned from using his gifts, however, were.

He remembered one instance in particular. He had gotten in trouble for losing control of his _Fuenar_ and accidentally setting fire to a desk. Lovino himself had been more traumatised by the event than anyone else. His teacher had been quick to sweep him into a hug and insist that it wasn't his fault, even if it went against proper protocol for teaching staff. However, since she answered to his grandfather, she had been obliged to report the incident. The next day had seen Lovino dragged into the throne room by a reluctant-looking guard to be screamed at by his grandfather. He'd been accused of being reckless and stupid, and playing around with his gifts like they were toys. Lovino had tried to explain that it was an accident, that he had been startled and reacted instinctively, but that hadn't stopped his grandfather from descending the steps to loom over him, or reach out and grab his arm in a tight grip, or eventually lose his patience and hit him in the face.

Lovino barely even remembered the feel of his grandfather's hand against his skin, but he did clearly recall the complete and utter silence that had descended over the throne room after that. He remembered the way his teacher had started forward, looking ready to start a fight before being dragged back by a guard. He did remember how he had desperately kept himself from crying, wanting, more than anything, to just not get hit again.

It would have been impressive, if he was able to legitimately say that he didn't resent his grandfather. It would have meant that he had put the horrible treatment he had received behind him, and forgiven a man who was clearly still grieving even years after the fact, exhausted and full of anxiety and concern for his planet.

But he _couldn't_. He resented his grandfather. It had been years and he still regarded him with distaste. Lovino had seen people grieve. He had done it himself, and he never would have done what his grandfather did. Regardless of how bad he was feeling, the old man should have been able to realise how much his grandchildren were hurting too. Instead, he had focussed on himself. And somehow, _that_ man, rather than the kind and warm Astrid and Oskar Bondevik, or the wildly entertaining Augustinas Laurinaitis or his doting wife Gabija, was the only known royal survivor of the Expansion.

It wasn't fair, but it was the reality anyway. Lovino didn't know why he was thinking of his grandfather at a time like this, but he dismissed the thoughts anyway. He had better things to do than worry about the past.

* * *

Feliciano watched his brother pace around the room. He had been locked in silent thought for about an hour now, but so far wasn't yielding any of the ideas that looked to be swimming around in his head. Feliciano drummed his fingers gently against the carpet. He glanced at the window. The sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon. They didn't have a lot of time left. He hesitated, before deciding that he had to interrupt his brother's musing.

"Lovi-"

"We can't get out of Bibesti." Lovino interrupted, the haze behind his eyes vanishing as he focused on Feliciano. "There's no way that we'll be able to, given the lack of transport available." Feliciano nodded slowly.

"I know…so…what are we meant to do, then? The Zephyrak is going to hunt us down." Lovino nodded.

"We probably can't kill her. She can make objects pass right through her, so fighting is useless…" Lovino trailed off, sighing. "I hate to say this, but we need to run. And I mean literally, by the way. This woman is probably fast, and with the wind helping her she'll be even faster, but the streets will be in chaos tonight. We probably won't escape her, but we can at least make this hard for her." Feliciano hesitated for a long moment, before bowing his head slightly and nodding.

"Okay. We'll run." He looked up at his older brother. "As long as we're together, we'll be fine." Lovino nodded, smiling softly.

"Exactly. As long as we're together, we'll get through this." Lovino echoed. Feliciano smiled weakly.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked. Lovino sighed, moving over to sit on the floor next to him.

"Now, we wait."

* * *

They didn't have to wait long.

* * *

It must be nice, Lovino thought, to have gifts regarded by most as supernatural, and to actually be able to use those gifts without fear of being captured and sold for billions of marks. It must also be nice to be able to fly up 176 storeys through the air and land on someone's balcony, and then use the same powers you just used to fly upwards alarmingly fast to blast their door off its hinges, and barge inside.

 _It really must be nice._ He thought weakly as he staggered backwards, shoving Feliciano behind him as the Zephyrak advanced on him, expression drawn and harsh.

"I gave you a deadline, your majesty. Given that you are still here, it looks like you have chosen not to follow it." Lovino tensed, clenching his jaw.

"I'm not a fan of punctuality, I will admit, though I will say that we technically have four hours left until the 25th is over, so you're early, if anything." The girl growled.

"If you were going to leave, you would be gone by now." She said. Lovino sighed, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I tried, believe me. There was no possible, affordable way for us to get off this planet before your stupid deadline. We tried to abide by your rules, but you were the one whose demands were unreasonable." The woman watched him, expression cold.

"I regret to do this, your majesty, I truly do, but for the sake of my people and my planet, I have to." Lovino straightened up.

"I understand that you have a duty to perform, but that doesn't mean that I'm going to make it easy for you."

Lovino saw the muscles in her arms tense as she moved her hands, but he was just as fast. At the same time that a blast of air came surging towards them with the force of a bullet train, Lovino swept his hands in an arc and sent a wave of flame soaring in her direction. The two collided harshly, and sent hot air and sparks flying in all directions through the apartment. The force of the air sent Lovino and Feliciano skidding backwards, and even knocked the Zephyrak back a little.

There was a beat of silence as each side composed themselves. Lovino glanced at his brother, who looked a little shocked. Feliciano had never seen Lovino use his abilities with offensive intent before. He might have been a problem child to his grandfather, but he could fight with his gifts better than the old man ever could have. Lovino exhaled.

"Sorry." He said, before sending a jet of flame towards her. The Zephyrak leapt out of the way, landing with the poise of a professional gymnast. Lovino let out a shaky breath. Parts of their apartment were on fire. It really was time for them to leave. His hand drifted to his neck, to the rose gold pendant that Feliciano had given him for his 20th birthday. He understood the Zephyrak's motivations very well, but he had things he needed to protect. He turned to Feliciano, and spoke in Syhvvanian. "Get onto the balcony." Feliciano stared at him, glancing at the Zephyrak, who looked tense and wary as she sized him up properly, but quickly obeyed.

Lovino shifted his body so that he was between his brother and the Zephyrak, baring his teeth in a vicious grin.

"Well, come on. Is that the best you can do?"

It felt like a dance, the way they moved and dived around the alternating blasts of wind and fire. Lovino sent flames that glowed and roared like great beasts hurtling towards the Zephyrak, and in return she would grace him with winds that howled and surged like vicious birds of prey. She slammed him against the walls and made his bones crack and groan with the force that she shoved him to the floor, and he made her nearly break her neck avoiding his flames and shriek in pain when the fire lapped over her skin and left vibrant red burns in their wake.

He loosed a broken, aching breath as she slammed him against one of their plaster walls hard enough to break a hole through it. Lovino crumpled, his whole body screaming but his reflexes perfectly intact as he raised a fist and sent her flying across the room with his telekinesis. She glowered and, with a low hissing noise, passed right through the wall before lunging back in when he released her. So, she _could_ make herself intangible. Noted.

Lovino swept his hand upwards, making the whole floor ignite as she conjured winds to lift her away from the burning wood and carpet. He staggered backwards. The room was becoming thick with smoke, and he could see that the Zephyrak was being thrown off because of it. He choked on it. The Vargas family was designed to endure fire, not necessarily its products.

He swept his gaze around. The apartment that he and Feliciano had called home for the last six years was ablaze. Furniture that they had sat on just hours ago was blackened and still smouldering. A small sob escaped his throat. This was the closest thing to home that he had ever had, and he was sending it up in smoke.

Forcing himself to take advantage of the Zephyrak's disoriented state, he darted outside to where Feliciano was perched on the balcony, looking just as scared of the huge drop to the ground as he did of the burning apartment and angry Zephyrak behind them. Lovino stuck his head out over the railing. They could take the fire escape down, even if it would give the woman an easy opportunity to catch up with them, or could shimmy across the building. Both options were rather dangerous, though.

He looked down, trying to ignore the brief vertigo that seized him. Far, far below, was a large stone fountain normally used by children in the summer to play in. The water was stagnant, so no-one ever drank from it. They were so high up that, even had the fountain been very deep, they still would have been absolutely pancaked. Lovino cursed. The building's fire alarm was going off now, loud and insistent in his ear. They couldn't escape back through the building and endanger innocent civilians, so their only option was to go out.

Feliciano seemed to have realised this too, and was staring at Lovino in terror. They both spun around when the door slammed open, the angry and now slightly singed Zephyrak stepping out to join them on the balcony. Lovino stared at her, realising how easily he had let them be cornered as she raised her hands again. She was going to blast them right off the balcony and let them fall 176 storeys to what would undoubtedly be an immediate death.

Well, Lovino had always been a fan of the idea that one should seize their own destiny. And besides, they were out of options. He prayed that his telekinesis was strong enough as he pressed himself against the railing, clambered up onto the metal, grabbed his brother's hand, and jumped.

There was nothing quite like plummeting from a height of about 800 metres directly down to the ground with nothing to hold onto them. Feliciano was screaming, rightfully so, whereas Lovino felt oddly numb as gravity dragged them downwards. He twisted in mid-air, catching sight of his younger brother's terrified face as the ground surged up to meet them. _I won't let anything happen to you._ He thought. _As long as we're together, we're okay, remember?_

Lovino sucked in as much air as he could while tumbling to the ground at terminal velocity, threw his hands out and unleashed every ounce of telekinetic power that he had.

He felt weightless for a brief moment as their descent slowed to a non-lethal speed, but gravity returned just a moment later, and they dropped like stones the remaining seven metres between them and the fountain near their apartment building, sending water flying over the rim of the fountain as they sunk rapidly through the water.

Lovino surfaced with a choked gasp as he desperately drew air into his lungs, heart hammering and vision blurring and spinning uncontrollably. He could hear Feliciano coughing and retching nearby. He felt a hand close around his arm and drag him forwards. He stumbled over the rim of the fountain and slumped onto the ground beside his brother.

He had done it. He'd actually done it. He had managed to completely stop them in mid-air when they had been travelling at a speed of about 47 metres per second. He blindly reached out, fumbling for his brother.

"A-are, you, are you okay?" he choked out. He heard Feliciano gasp.

"Yeah." He said, sounding just as breathless and stunned. "We…we're both okay…" he trailed off disbelievingly.

Lovino rubbed his eyes as he forced himself to his feet. As amazing as them surviving had been, the Zephyrak was still after them. He blinked a few times, spinning around to face his brother as Feliciano clambered to his feet, and felt his stomach drop to his toes.

"Oh…shit…fuck…shit…no, no, no…" he muttered, staring at his brother in horror. Feliciano was unharmed but, oh god, Lovino had completely forgotten…their _hair_. Feliciano looked up at Lovino and obviously realised their problem, face paling. The vivid red of Feliciano's hair was showing through, rivulets of black running down his shoulders and neck. Glancing down at himself, Lovino could also see dye running down his body, stripping him of the only major disguise that he really needed.

Feliciano shook his head, darting forward to grab Lovino's hand and drag him away.

"We…we can focus on it later. For now, we need to _run_ , remember?" Lovino staggered after him, feeling numb with fear before his brain caught up with the situation and his feet started to run. He nodded, more to himself than to Feliciano, as they darted down a narrow alley and ploughed through the darkest little nooks and crannies that the Szwicza District had to offer.

Lovino threw a look over his shoulder, looking up to where their apartment was. The blaze had started to spread to other nearby apartments, and he felt a brief stab of guilt. He hoped that Sadik and their other neighbours could get out in time. Their balcony was empty – the Zephyrak was on the move again. He shuddered a little, but kept on moving.

He frowned at his brother. Feliciano had taken his pack back at the apartment when he had been gearing up to fight, and still had it slung over his shoulders with his own things.

"I can take my stuff." Lovino said, voice crackly. Feliciano shook his head.

"Focus on keeping her away from us." He said firmly. "I can manage. It isn't heavy." Lovino nodded, steering his brother down another small path between two rundown buildings. The streets normally had at least some people moving around, but tonight, they were completely abandoned.

For some reason, Lovino's mind didn't recall exactly why until the burst of raucous laughter came from the next street over, and he glimpsed the person that caused it. He seized Feliciano by the back of his shirt the moment that he spotted the long blue frock coat and thigh holster of the man, pressing them both into a narrow alcove. He cursed. He was an idiot. In his panic about the Zephyrak, he had completely forgotten about the Three-Day Reign. The city, and the Szwicza District in particular, was currently infested with pirates.

Feliciano had evidently realised as well, and looked concerned. Lovino cursed, trying to soothe the small shaking in his right hand. The pirates that came for the Three-Day Reign were not like the ones that Vash had housed in his apartment. These were the killers and sadists and the truly evil ones. And right now, he and Feliciano were very visibly Syhvvanian, and would quite obviously fetch a high price, either dead or alive.

A noise from the alley behind them had Lovino whipping around, and cursing again when he saw the Zephyrak slowly stalking towards them. Their only options were to face the Zephyrak, who would likely kill them, or run into the main street and face the pirates, who would likely kill them. It was a lose-lose situation. His heart was in his mouth as he quietly looked around to see if they had another mode of escape. The Zephyrak had slowed down considerably; she had obviously also remembered the pirates, and was looking to avoid their attention.

Lovino felt a gentle arm nudge him in the side. Feliciano, looking pale but determined, was pointing towards a dark corner across from them, where, Lovino could now see, there was a rusted fire escape leading up to the roof. He squeezed his younger brother's hand to communicate that he had seen it too, and looked from side to side. The Zephyrak seemed on edge…maybe…

He focused on a small pail he could see up the far end of the alley, in the opposite direction to them. He knocked it over, grabbing Feliciano and dragging them both rapidly over to the ladder when the Zephyrak whirled around to investigate the noise. He nudged Feliciano, urging him to climb up first. The thing looked prone to clanging and creaking, so they would have to make this quick. Feliciano clambered up onto the lowest rung and climbed, moving carefully so as to generate as little noise as possible. Lovino followed him, taking care to step in the same places that his brother had. The ladder let out a loud groan as he scrambled onto the roof, and they both bolted to the far edge of the roof, sliding down the sloped edge until they were standing on the rim of the tiles, about a metre away from the edge of the building next door.

Lovino didn't want to risk having Feliciano fall, so he seized him with his mind and sent him over the edge that way, ignoring the stunned and surprised look on his brother's face as he leapt over manually. He shuffled over to a part of the roof that sloped inwards a little, and dragged his brother in next to him.

"What are we meant to do now?" Feliciano whispered, voice so quiet that Lovino had to strain a little to hear him. He exhaled shakily, still feeling a little off-kilter from the jump to the fountain.

"I don't know." He breathed back. "It's the Zephyrak in one direction and very hostile pirates in the other." Feliciano bit his lip. Most of the dye had leached out of his hair by now, and the bright coppery colour he was born with was back. Lovino absently reached out and ran a hand through it. He hadn't gotten to see his brother's natural appearance in so long, it felt good to see him like this. Feliciano smiled at him sadly.

"The pirates will try to capture and sell us if they find us, won't they?" Feliciano murmured. Lovino sighed, but nodded.

"Yeah. Even if we're sold just as normal civilians, we'd fetch a good price, given that we aren't meant to live outside of Syhvva." He swallowed. "But the Zephyrak is going to kill us, so…"

Feliciano looked down, the last dregs of optimism finally dying from his eyes. Their situation was well and truly hopeless. Lovino sighed.

"Feli…" he hesitated. He knew that his brother would fight him, but it had to be done. "I…have an idea." His brother looked at him as he swallowed, knowing that Feliciano wasn't going to like this at all.

"I…I'm going to distract them to get them off our tail." Feliciano was shaking his head already.

"No, absolutely not. _Lovino_ -" Lovino sighed.

"Listen, Feli, they're gonna find us sooner or later anyway. If we don't move, we'll end up facing both Zephyrak and pirate at the same time, which I am not keen to do, may I say. We're not gonna be separated, okay, but we'll just travel by different avenues, alright? I'll go by the street, you travel by rooftop."

Feliciano looked vehemently against this plan, quickly starting to protest the minute that Lovino closed his mouth. He reached out and clapped his palm over his brother's mouth.

"Just…please just trust me on this. Okay? I'm not intending to go anywhere, I promise. It's just so we can observe the area better, and so that if we do get caught, it's one rather than both of us." Feliciano hesitated for a long moment before nodding. Lovino sighed in relief. "Alright. And, one more thing. If I get captured, Feli, I need you to promise me that you _won't_ try to help me. Promise me that you'll run away and hide and keep yourself safe." Feliciano stared at him in horror.

"Lovi, I _can't_ -"

" _Please_ , Fratellino? _Please_?" Feliciano stared at him, looking devastated, before nodding very slowly. Lovino sighed again, nodding to himself. He climbed to his feet, smiling at Feliciano reassuringly before turning and running to the edge of the roof, surveying the street. If he had to take his chances, he would rather be sold than killed.

Lovino spread his arms and leapt down, using his telekinesis to slow his fall again as he landed carefully. He straightened up and looked around. He wasn't necessarily going to be aiming to get captured. If fact, if he could avoid it, that would be great. He didn't like the idea of Feliciano being alone, even though he knew that he would be able to handle it.

He just needed to disperse the attention being focused on this area. By drawing out both the Zephyrak and the pirates, he could help Feli fly under the radar, and hopefully, meet up with him later in the city somewhere. He glanced around. His first task was the Zephyrak. She had been close on their heels earlier, but where was she now? He glanced up towards the rooftop where he had left Feliciano.

He crossed the street, eying the alleys nearby carefully. She had been so vigilant in hunting them before, so there was no way she had just given up-

Lovino's instincts barely gave him enough time to dodge as the woman leapt down at him from above. He rolled and came up on his feet, falling into a fighting stance as he faced her. She dusted herself off, frowning.

"Where's your little brother?" she asked. Lovino bared his teeth in a wordless grin, and swung at her.

He couldn't use his gifts here, he just couldn't. It was the sure-fire way to draw attention and get both of them sold to the Union for billions of marks, but he could still throw a good punch, so that was what he did. The Zephyrak seemed to be so surprised by his use of actual physical force that she didn't block in time. His blow landed hard on her solar plexus, and he heard the air leave her lungs in a rush as she gasped in pain.

He darted backwards to avoid her arm as it lashed out, knife in hand, cursing as he realised that he'd been a tad too slow, and her blade had grazed his torso. Lovino darted out of her way again, body shifting more than he had intended it to. He landed well clear of her strike, and, as he felt an invisible force loosen around his waist, he understood.

 _Be careful, Feliciano, you brilliant bastard._ He thought as he parried her strikes again, drawing his own knife from his belt as he squared off against her. She was a brilliant fighter, that he would readily admit and, had they not been at each other's throats, he would have liked to get tips from her. In another life, maybe, he thought sadly as he struck out at her, his knife glancing off the arm-guards she was wearing.

Lovino shuffled backwards, breathing hard. His torso had taken quite the beating back at their apartment; he was fairly certain he had a cracked rib or two, and it was making movement and breathing difficult.

Deciding that he had already drawn out this fight more than he should have, Lovino sheathed his knife and bolted away from the Zephyrak, hurtling down a narrow alley. If he maintained a good enough distance, maybe he could avoid fighting her again. She was clearly the more talented warrior here, and with injuries like his, he couldn't hope to fight her for much longer. He didn't want to die at her hands, even if the alternative was-

A pair of hands reached out and grabbed Lovino, dragging him down a darkened street.

Right.

That was the alternative.

Pirates.


	16. What Remains

**Hellloooo, tis chapter time once more!**

 **Thank you all so much for your reviews last chapter! I know I say it every time, but I really do love hearing from you all. I don't always have time to answer reviews and respond to questions, but I do try to get around to anyone who has queries. Even if I don't respond to your review, though, you can rest assured that I probably grinned like an idiot and felt better for the rest of the day after reading it. So thank you all so much! :D**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Matthias screwed up with Lukas by making a (very) misguided comment about Lukas' parents. Lukas was neither pleased nor impressed, especially given that he has been having nightmares about the Expansion ever since arriving on Fynkn.**  
 **\- Riya Kristoff has emerged as a person of interest to Lukas, who wants to know why everyone at camp respects her so much.**  
 **\- Inkar attacked Lovino and Feliciano after her deadline came to a close. They escaped their apartment (though not before sending it up in flames) and fell into a fountain, which caused all the dye in their hair to leech out. After splitting up, Lovino ran into some unwelcome company in the form of dangerous pirates.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Mentions of death, blood, violence etc**  
 **\- Some racially-based aggression**  
 **\- A scene of vomiting and an extended sequence of dissociation**

 **I hope you all enjoy, and please comment! I love you guys!**

* * *

 _Resistance Headuquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
25th Jaune _

Octavia rolled her shoulders absently, casting a concerned look at Yao as she waited for him to finish signing off on a mission that one of her underlings had requested. He looked a little frazzled, and she was yet to identify exactly why. As far as she knew, nothing had yet changed on Fynkn to create tension or concern, and neither had any other missions recently. Even in saying that, though, Yao did always know big news before she or anyone else did, so it was a possibility that something had happened.

But as she looked at him now, she wasn't even entirely certain that it _was_ tension or stress plaguing him this morning. His shoulders were loose, and his muscles relaxed. He tended to clench his jaw when he was extremely anxious or stressed and trying desperately not to show it, but he looked thoroughly unbothered in that department today. Yet there was something off about him. He had a bizarre, frenetic energy about him; his eyes were a little wider than they normally would be, and his gaze was flying up and down the files on his desk and around the room as if possessed of an inane desire to commit everything he saw to memory.

His left hand – the one not occupied by a pen, was moving ceaselessly across the desk, fingers tapping out an unidentifiable rhythm as his left leg also jogged up and down. He was oddly energetic today, but Octavia didn't feel uncomfortable enough to ask why. Though he had forgiven her for the bad judgement call she'd made back in Maarch, she found it hard to forgive herself as well.

Her gut had rebelled at the idea of attacking him, she recalled, and it didn't surprise her much that it had. Yao had always been a good person, and even with her suspicions back then she had hesitated to do anything about them. Even now, months later, she feared what it would look like if she tried to question or challenge him even in the smallest of ways. It would be all too easy to assume that she was trying to usurp his authority again.

She folded her arms, closing her mouth resolutely and leaning back a little. If there was something major going on, it was down to Yao's discretion to decide if she should know or not, and it wasn't right of her to question that. She had done enough to try and damage his image, and she definitely shouldn't try to do anything more. Even though it had been months since the trial, the atmosphere around the resistance was still different to what it had been before. There was a heightened level of suspicion and fear and prejudice and Octavia _despised_ that she was to blame for it. Their investigation had shown discrepancies in Zev Batbayaryn's files that would have come to light in just a few weeks. Had she not been so keen to jump the gun and point fingers held aloft by baseless accusations, they would have outed him as the spy without the added drama of Yao being put under fire.

Yao himself said that Octavia wasn't to blame, that she had been under the thumb of a master manipulator with no qualms about playing on her desperate passion for the rebellion and her compassion for her underlings. Zev had been trained for years by the Union to infiltrate the Resistance and turn them against each other. He had almost succeeded, too. As everyone seemed to say, it wasn't her fault. She had been one of his victims, too.

But she disagreed. She always had the choice of who to trust, of who to confide in and listen to. It had been completely of her volition that she had turned on Yao and successfully manipulated a large amount of the resistance to do the same. Though Zev might have coaxed her suspicions and encouraged her fear, she had made the executive decision to split the resistance near in two. Though he had whispered in her ear for months and washed away the last of her concerns, it was Octavia that was ultimately to blame for what had happened. It was her fault that he had almost gone free, had it not been for the skills of Lukas Bondevik. It was her fault that the haunting darkness in Yao's eyes – something which had been there since she had first met him six years ago – had deepened gradually since the trial had ended.

She knew that being forced to testify about the torture that he had suffered was bringing back every bad memory that he had likely tried to suppress. She was probably the reason he was losing sleep, to the point that he had to use medication – she had spotted the pill bottle on his desk when she had ducked inside to ask a question – and Octavia _loathed_ it.

She had put herself even further in his debt than she had already been in with what she had done back in Maarch, and no-one's assurances that she wasn't to blame did nothing to help. She wondered what her sister would have said. Helena had been so much wiser, more intelligent and capable than Octavia was. And she had been friends with Yao. She likely wouldn't have approved of her friend being locked in prison by her younger sister.

Octavia had never seen them interact in person; she had only met Yao right after her sister was killed in 4506, but it was clear, at least on Yao's end, that there had been a lot of love and respect between them. That much was clear alone from how much Yao had risked to respect her sister's – and her whole people's – beliefs.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma  
10th Maii, 4506CC_

 _(6 years ago)_

 _Octavia shoved through the crowds of people milling around, ignoring the murmuring that had swept across the resistance like a tidal wave, crushing the loud shouts and teasing that were normally carried on the air. Her lungs felt like they were constricting, like iron bands were being tightened around them as the air was slowly forced outwards._

 _She had heard the news – Mohammed had come by her tent two days ago to gently ask her sit down and explain that the mission to Apollomina to collect documents from their old base had gone wrong, that the abandoned outpost hadn't been abandoned after all, and that the team that had gone had been bombarded by a legion of steel bullets, and that one of those bullets had torn directly through her older sister's head. She had heard the news, and witnessed the subduement of the entire resistance as the news had spread yesterday like wildfire. She had heard it, she had_ heard it _, but now she had to_ see it _as well. Her stomach was tipping and pitching like a ship at sea in a storm. She didn't want to see it, but she knew that she would never rest if she didn't._

 _Arshad moved behind her, silent and morose, as he had been for the last few days. Helena had been one of his closest friends and confidantes for the last five years. They had hit it off immediately when Helena and Octavia arrived on their old base at Apollomina – more victims of the Union's aggression and arrogance – and her sister's position had skyrocketed in just a few years. She was one of the High Council's most trusted faces, other than Arshad himself, of course, and no-one seemed to be able to believe that she was gone._

 _She ignored the concerned looks that Arshad was sending her as she continued to bodily slam people out of the way, storming through the crowds without thought for their own grief or curiosity. This moment didn't belong to them, it belonged to her. It didn't even belong to Arshad, though he had joined her in her immeasurable grief in the last few days. He and Helena had been close, yes, but the bond of two close friends lasting several years had no traction on the bond between two sisters which had, up until that point, lasted Octavia's whole lifetime._

 _There was no way to equate his grief with hers, though she knew that he was hurting as well. She didn't have the selflessness to comfort him when her own heart was being torn to shreds. No, empathy had been her sister's strong suit._

 _"Octavia." Arshad murmured as he sped up a little to draw level with her. She internally cursed how long his legs were. "Octavia, you know that they aren't going to be bringing anything good." She shook her head. She knew that, of course – the surviving crew had been moving non-stop for the last three days, not pausing to even shower or sleep. They needed to rest and recuperate. They had lost their commanding officer, and judging by the tidbits of information that she had been able to snatch up when walking past High Council meetings, the crew had all seen it happen._

 _"I know, Arshad. You don't need to tell me that." She spoke through gritted teeth, hoping that the shake in her hands wasn't as noticeable as it felt. She heard the leader of the resistance sigh._

 _"They would have had to leave her there, Octavia." He murmured. She drew in a shuddering breath._

 _"I know that, too, Arshad. I just want to talk to them." Arshad was silent for a moment._

 _"I understand, but keep in mind that they're all exhausted and probably traumatised as well. Questioning them relentlessly might not yield the answers you're looking for."_

 _Oh Arshad. He had such a way with words. He was trying to balance his desire to let her learn more about her sister's passing with the fatigued crew's need for sleep and recovery, all the while managing to frame the statement in such a way that didn't make her feel guilty. He deserved the position that he had, that was for sure._

 _She drew in another shuddering breath and kept moving. It was her sister's body being left behind that hurt the most. Burial was an extremely important custom on Daerna. Their whole culture involved connection to the earth and nature. Their royal family being able to manipulate the earth only solidified their ties to the natural world. The Union loved nothing more than to dismiss that custom. They did the same with Syhvvanians, almost all of whom were cremated after they died. They took great pleasure in disposing of their remains in the most disrespectful way that they could. Her sister's body would likely be burned or dismembered or dissolved in acid or even tossed into the sea to rot, rather than being returned to the ground from which all life had once sprung._

 _Octavia wiped furiously at the tears budding in the corners of her eyes as her steps finally began to slow. She would not cry, damn it. Her sister deserved the strength that she had always displayed in life._

 _The ship had finally landed, and though hundreds of people were milling around nearby, there was an odd area of space around the ship where no-one seemed to want to enter. It was like an invisible barrier was keeping everyone back. The door of the ship was open, but no one had exited yet. She could imagine what they were doing inside._

 _Octavia herself had been on missions gone sour before, and there was always a moment when one hesitated to leave the ship and face their failure upon returning to the resistance. Most people felt ashamed, like they should have done better. No doubt, the people inside that ship didn't want to face the silent stares and the crying and the judgement that everyone would throw their way even though Arshad had made sure to acknowledge the fact that they had been outgunned twenty to one on that mission and hadn't had a fighting chance at all._

 _Octavia stood at the fore of the group, watching silently. The people around her seemed to finally notice her presence, and some drew away a little, expression crinkling in sadness and sympathy. Arshad stepped up beside her, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently. She leaned into the touch, seeking the comfort while desperately trying to keep her expression neutral. After what seemed like an eternity, someone exited the ship._

 _It was Ali Ghafoor, looking more run-down and worn than she had ever seen him. His eyes were puffy and red-rimmed – he had been crying a lot – and his clothes were rumpled and dirty. There were a few spots of blood on his right sleeve, but she could see the edges of a bandage pocking out from under the material, and knew that it was probably his own. Following him down the stairs was a fair-haired fighter whose name Octavia didn't know. She, too, looked so exhausted and wrecked that she wouldn't have been surprised if the woman had crumpled on the spot._

 _A few more people followed Ali and the pale woman down, but Octavia didn't really focus. Ali's gaze was on her; she could feel it, and when she tilted her head over to look at him, he looked away, shame and sadness and guilt painted all over his face. Octavia only shifted her attention away from him when she heard the person next to her make a small noise of disgust and huff to their other neighbour._

 _"You have to wonder if they were shooting to kill if_ it _was there." Octavai frowned at the woman's hostile tone – and her baffling use of the term 'it' – and turned her attention back to the ship. The last of the surviving crew had exited the ship, and Octavia felt a surge of repulsion surge through her – aimed at the snapping woman next to her – when she noted his appearance._

 _"Keep your mouth shut." She murmured to the woman. "You've done less for this movement than he has." The woman turned, looking ready to start an argument, before she realised who she was talking to, turned white, and stammered out an apology before shuffling away and falling silent. Octavia looked to the front again._

 _She had never met Blackbird before – even though he was a friend of her sister's and by all rumours she had heard, Arshad's paramour as well – but there was no mistaking him. They had almost no recruits from the Kyrs system, given how strong the Union's presence was, there, but even in the few they did have, they had exactly one Yanish member, and that was Blackbird._

 _She had to wonder how the woman next to her had even recognised him, given the state that he was in._

 _He was taller than she had expected, honestly, standing a little higher than Ali, but did have the athletic build that she had come to expect from the stories she had heard. His long, dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, though many strands had fallen free, giving him a rather messy look. His clothes were filthy – he evidently hadn't changed them since the mission – and he was wearing a long-sleeved white shirt splattered with blood and dirt, dark pants, boots, gloves and a loose scarf around his neck._

 _His face was pale, with dark, long-dried blood coated on the left side of his face and scarf, and congealed throughout some of his hair. A line of bruises marched their way up the right side of his face, starting at his jaw – he must have been punched or struck at some point – and ending at a dark miscolouration just below his right eye. His lip was split and by the looks of his right arm, which was bandaged from top to bottom, he had received damage there as well._

 _Despite the injuries he had – by the looks of them, the worst of the whole crew – he didn't look as exhausted as they did, nor quite as worn. Octavia saw Arshad give a little start when he saw Blackbird, and watched the leader of the resistance absently for a few seconds as he looked Blackbird up and down, as if committing to memory where his injuries were. Arshad swallowed, obviously having finished his inspection, and stepped forward. The low murmuring of the crowds behind Octavia ceased. Ali stepped forwards as well, looking stricken._

 _"Arshad-" he said, voice small and devastated._

 _"It's okay, Ali." Arshad said, tone so soft and gentle that Octavia almost couldn't pick up on it. "It's all going to be okay. It isn't your fault." Ali's expression crumpled again, tears running down his face as he shook his head a little, rubbing his face with the back of his arm._

 _"You don't understand, it is, I could have done so much more-"_

 _"What happened happened. There is no one here who can turn back time, so all we can do now is deal with it." Arshad looked upset as well. "It won't be easy, but I don't think that Helend would have wanted us to fall apart over her." Ali let out a shuddering breath, burying his face in his hands. He raised it after a moment, looking in Octavia's direction. Her mouth went dry._

 _"I'm sorry, Octavia, I'm so so sorry…" from behind where Ali stood, Blackbird straightened up and moved forward, taking Ali's arm to pull him back a little._

 _"That's enough, Ali." He said. His voice was a little deeper than Octavia expected, tone cool and composed, even as she detected a hint of strain._

 _"Don't order him around." One man standing near the front of the crowds snapped viciously. Octavia turned, baffled as the man moved forwards more, jabbing a finger at Blackbird. "You have nothing to do with this whole thing. Step away." Blackbird stiffened slightly, but released Ali's arm and stepped back a little. Octavia couldn't help but regret it, though. Ali's words, his heartfelt, unnecessary apology, had brought her frighteningly close to tears. Blackbird's intervention was the only reason she wasn't bawling right now._

 _Arshad turned to face the man, and even Octavia wasn't so distracted by her grief to ignore the growing anger on his face._

 _"I feel it would be more accurate to say that you have no say in this conversation, Corporal Lieferman." Arshad intoned, expression disapproving. The Corporal scoffed._

"I _don't and_ he _does?" he snapped, pointing at Blackbird again. Arshad sighed, looking exhausted._

 _"Step away, Corporal. This was a private conversation anyway." The Corporal sneered at Blackbird, but stepped backwards, grumbling in dissatisfaction. Ali shook his head slightly._

 _"No, no, Yao is right. I shouldn't have…I apologise for my conduct." The man continued to wipe his face, looking even more despondent than before. Arshad sighed quietly, but turned to Ali and continued to speak._

 _"We'll have a commemoration ceremony in a few days, and you all need to be debriefed, but I must insist that you all sleep and get treated for your injuries first." Octavia swallowed. A commemoration ceremony; it was what Daernic people did in place of a funeral when there was no body to bury. Blackbird gave a little start, as if something had just come to mind, and spoke up again._

 _"Actually, Arshad-" he said._

 _"Oh, for fuck's sake." The Corporal snapped. "He's a general, you disrespectful ass. Show some deference." Blackbird paused, surveying the man carefully._

 _"Have I done something to offend you, Corporal?" he asked simply, looking legitimately curious about the answer. Octavia had to admire his composure and restraint. Arshad cut in as the Corporal opened his mouth._

 _"May I remind you, Corporal, that you have no part in this conversation?" he said, tone now very irritated. The Corporal glared, expression becoming purely venomous._

 _"I'm not allowed to be a part of the conversation but the fucking_ yinka _is?" he snapped. Arshad's expression hardened. Octavia's mouth dropped open as the slur met her ears. It was a foul word – the kind that even the most hardcore racists didn't tend to touch, but Blackbird didn't look overtly troubled by it. He spoke over Arshad as the Nymian opened his mouth to no doubt chew out the Corporal._

 _"Ahh, so that's it. Thank you for your valuable contribution to this discussion, but I must say, if you wanted to hurl racist insults at me, you could have done it at any other time. Arshad is the only one who cares, so you picked the_ only _bad time to do that. Moving on," he said, steamrolling over Arshad's continued spluttering and shocked expression and making eye contact with Octavia, expression softening into something much sadder, "I just wanted to amend Arshad's statement. You can have a proper funeral for your sister, Ms Papadopoulos. We were able to bring her body with us." He withdrew a key from his pocket – evidently for the storage room on the ship - and handed it to her. She took it, hand shaking slightly, and nodded as tears finally spilled over her eyelids and ran down her face. She clutched the key to her chest, breathing deeply as she nodded._

 _Blackbird dipped his head to her slightly and moved past her a little, obviously wanting to go and shower – the sheer amount of blood on him was staggering. Octavia turned half an ear back to the crew as she heard Arshad exclaim in surprise._

 _"What? How in the system did you manage that? You said that you were pinned down completely!" Ali bit his lip and nodded._

 _"We were, but…" Blackbird had paused now, half-turned to the conversation behind him. Ali sighed, throwing a pointed look at the Yanish man, "well, Yao insisted on going back inside to get her." Octavia felt like the bottom on her stomach had dropped off as she, along with the dozens of people that had heard that statement, to stare at the tall man who currently had his mouth twisted into an expression that clearly demonstrated his disdain with the attention. Octavia gawked at him._

 _"But…" she murmured. "why would you risk so much to…" Blackbird – Yao? Was that his name? – sighed, pivoting to face her._

 _"You bury your dead." He said bluntly. "Isn't it quite important, to do that?" she nodded numbly. Yao shrugged. "Well…yeah." He trailed off, evidently unaware of how to finish the statement. He sent a look at Arshad. "Can I go now?" he gestured to the blood covering him. "I've been covered in other people's blood for three days." Arshad nodded, looking startled as Yao grunted and moved through the crowd. Octavia stared after him, as the realisation fully sunk in._

 _He brought her sister home._

* * *

And after doing something like that for her, she never should have doubted him in the first place. And the fact that she had distrusted him regardless would hang dark and heavy over her head for a long time yet.

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
25th Jaune_

Lukas poked his fork absently at the shapeless mass of food on his plate. It didn't necessarily taste too bad, but the texture and appearance of the stuff – whatever it was meant to be – was enough of a turnoff for him to quickly lose his appetite. He dropped his fork and folded his arms, glancing down the table.

His friendly bunkmate Ansel was seated beside him and engaging in an enthusiastic conversation with the people around him. Across from Lukas was the quiet girl, Riya Kristoff, who also didn't seem to appreciate the food very much. He glanced to the left. Køhler was sitting about five spaces down from him, hemmed in on either side by the loud, bulked up combat soldiers from Block A. Despite the fact that they were all talking cheerfully, and that Lukas knew for a fact that Køhler got along with them very well, he looked absolutely _miserable_. His head was turned down, towards the table and his fingers were drumming against the wood absently. His mouth was turned down in displeasure and his shoulders slumped.

Lukas sighed to himself. Køhler had been avoiding him for about two days now, and it was starting to feel a little ridiculous. Yes, he had said something hurtful and senseless, but he had also immediately apologised for it, and obviously felt a lot of regret. Guilt was basically emanating from him, and had been since their unpleasant conversation. To be fair to the bounty hunter, Lukas had been unpleasant as well, and had also been distant and avoiding him for the last few days before he had lashed out. They had both contributed to making the situation worse.

He watched as Køhler looked up a little, eyes drifting back in his direction before he saw Lukas looking at him. The blond's eyes widened, and he looked away immediately, guilt shrouding his features. Lukas sighed. They couldn't go on like this, they really couldn't. Even if meant cornering the taller man later, after training, Lukas was going to talk to him.

He groaned quietly, rubbing at the back of his neck as Sergeant Kolden yelled at them to get up and exit the low-ceilinged dining hall and go back into the cold. Lukas stamped his boots on the ground to loosen snow from their soles, scowling as he folded his arms tightly against his chest. Kolden hadn't been lying when he had warned that the training was going to get harder. The exercises they had been doing were _relentless_ – Lukas was probably one of the fittest people in the whole Block, yet he dropped like a deadweight into his bed at night and didn't stir again until the morning alarms went off. His bad dreams had continued, but they failed to rouse him from sleep like they had before, which was something of a relief.

He groaned as Kolden ordered them towards one of the many death-trap obstacle courses scattered around the training camp, and took off towards it with everyone else. These courses were some of the things that he was best at, but they were still ridiculously tiring. He elegantly sprinted past some people straggling up one of the first obstacles – a network of pipe-like sections that they were supposed to climb up, and slid up on top of the small metal platform above. He'd spent years climbing up walls and fire escapes and dingy, half-rusted piping on the sides of buildings, so this particular exercise was easy for him.

Lukas scrambled over to the next obstacle with the rest of the Block behind him, with only the part-Syhvvanian girl, Riya Kristoff, even remotely close to him in terms of distance. He made eye contact with her as he started to throw himself over the next obstacle – large hurdle like structures, and dared to smile a little. She slowed a little, eyes narrowing before her back straightened and her pace quickened. Lukas' smile grew as he turned back to his task. Evidently, she had accepted his smile as a challenge of sorts.

Even though he hadn't been intending to start a competition with the Kristoff girl, he found himself having fun as he picked up the pace and threw himself into the activities and obstacles with even more vigour than before, determined to beat his new opponent.

He pulled ahead of her in every challenge, save the last one. There was a hundred-metre stretch between the obstacle course and the finish line where Kolden was standing and, as Lukas had discovered in the last few days, though he and Køhler outperformed her in distance running, sprinting as an activity _belonged_ to Riya Kristoff. She passed him easily, gracefully drawing to a stop next to Kolden as he sighed in defeat and jogged the rest of the way. Kolden marked down their names thoughtfully.

"Okay then…Christensen finished first for the actual obstacle course, but Kristoff gets gold for the overall time. Well done, you two." He wandered away a little to observe those still struggling through the course, and Lukas turned to Riya.

"You…are way too fast a runner." He said, huffing slightly with exertion. She turned to look at him, expression a little less severe than it normally was, her ice-chip eyes boring into him nonetheless.

"No, I prefer to think that you're just too slow." She responded, and though her tone was neutral, Lukas could feel that she was a little amused. He shrugged.

"Probably." He made eye contact with her again, and could have sworn that he saw the edge of her mouth twitch upwards slightly before she extended her hand.

"Riya Kristoff." She said, shaking his hand. Lukas nodded slightly.

"Lukas Christensen." He replied casually. It had been years since his tongue stuttered over an alias, so it came out smoothly. She nodded, her dark, dull-red hair slipping off her shoulder as she did.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance." She murmured.

* * *

Lukas made a point of seeking out Køhler after training was finally over. He really wasn't sure that he had the energy – his whole body was aching and his mind was sluggish – but he knew that it needed to be done. He wove through the crowds of mingling people in Block D after shucking off his uniform in favour of the clothes he had been sleeping in recently, and snagged the blond's sleeve, tugging insistently.

Køhler turned around, neutral expression dropping the minute that he saw Lukas. He opened his mouth, that hopelessly guilty look dawning on his face again, but Lukas cut his off.

"Meet me outside in ten minutes." He said. "And don't you dare skip out on me." He turned on his heel and marched away, ducking into the bathroom to clean his teeth and stare at the abysmal state of his hair before quickly returning to his bunk to neaten up the sheets a little. After about nine minutes had passed, he wove through the crowds of people everywhere and ducked out the door, stepping barefoot into snow. The cold didn't bother him in the slightest, and he sighed a little in relief at the soothing feel of it on his toes.

He only had to wait a minute or so before the door quietly swung open again and Køhler stepped outside to join him.

They were completely silent, with Lukas standing still and relaxed while Køhler shuffled awkwardly, looking very nervous. He finally broke the silence with a loud sigh. Køhler stilled at the noise. Lukas rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm going to be straightforward about this, because I don't like to dance around issues like this. My parents, and, more specifically, the subject of their deaths, is one of the few topics that I actually do get really defensive about. You touched a nerve when you said what you did a few days ago, as I'm sure you're already aware." Køhler winced, looking and – from what Lukas could tell – feeling ashamed as he broke eye contact and scuffed his boot-toe against the ground. Lukas studied the ground, hesitating as he debated what to say next. "I…I found my parents' bodies, did you know that?"

Køhler sucked in a breath, looking shocked when Lukas raised his head to look at him next.

"I…didn't know that. I'm so sorry." Lukas shrugged one shoulder, drawing a circle in the snow with his toes.

"I don't exactly advertise the fact, I will say. And I do dislike talking about them, due in equal part to my attachment to them and the trauma that I was probably left with from that event, but I'm not completely opposed to it. I'll admit that I probably brought your irritation on myself, at least a little bit." To Lukas' surprise, the bounty hunter chose this moment to speak up.

"What? No! I was being an ass and you aren't to blame for that. You should never blame yourself for someone else's actions." Lukas shrugged again.

"I know, but I haven't exactly been making any real attempts to properly talk to you. You're an extrovert – my continual quietness probably isn't very engaging for you." He paused for a moment, looking back over at him. "I can sense emotions, you know. I know that you were feeling a little lonely." The taller man sighed quietly, rubbing his fingers over his chin absently.

"You…aren't wrong about that." He admitted, frowning. "But that doesn't even remotely excuse what I said to you, okay?" he hesitated a moment, dragging in a breath. "Look, I am so, so sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it. I wanted to hurt you and my mind went right to the one thing that I thought might get past your impenetrable shell." He looked down. "I was an ass and a horrendous human being. I'm sorry that I brought up your parents, and I wish that I could do something to make it right. You didn't deserve that. I'm a grown-ass man, I should be able to handle things like this in a mature way. Yes, I might have been a little irritated and lonely, but that doesn't excuse it." Lukas listened in silence, nodding.

"Well, thank you. I forgive you. Just don't go around talking about my family like that again and I think we'll be fine." Køhler nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, of course, I won't, promise. Again, dude, I'm so sorry." Lukas looked over at him. Køhler's expression was so open and earnest that he felt himself melt a little. He nodded.

"I know. It's okay." He murmured. "Saints, our relationship really hasn't started out so well, has it?" Køhler laughed softly.

"Yeah, we're a little dysfunctional, aren't we?" he chuckled. "Let's try to get better at that." Lukas nodded, gazing back at the door.

"We should probably go back in now. I personally want to get as much sleep as possible." Køhler nodded in agreement, biting his lip.

"Yeah. Agreed. And…Bondevik?" he murmured Lukas' real surname so quietly that Lukas himself barely heard it, "Thank you…for forgiving me." Lukas rolled his shoulders back and inclined his head a little.

"You're welcome." He said, turning on his heel to step back over the threshold of the barracks and go to his bunk, where more restless sleep awaited him.

* * *

 _Szwicza District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
26th Jaune_

It was rare, in all honesty, for Feliciano to feel numb.

He was emotional. He always had been. He'd never had a secure parental figure in his life, so he tended to get protective of whatever positive role models he had been given.

Most of the time, Feliciano was happy. He smiled as much as he could, because if he was happy, he should show it! The times that he felt scared or sad or even angry were very few and very far in between, not to mention that, whenever he was something other than happy, the emotion never seemed to be that strong. He was hard-wired for happiness, no matter what circumstances.

It seemed bizarre, especially given his past and upbringing. Where his brother had resolutely been locked out by their grandfather – he had failed to mention it whenever the man came up, but Feliciano remembered well enough – meanwhile Feliciano had aimlessly drifted between people while growing up.

With no parents to cling to, he had taken to anyone offering even the slightest suggestion of warmth or love. Sometimes it had been his grandfather, other times a friendly palace servant or one of his tutors. No one had seemed to be able to really say no to him when he was little, so Feliciano had never seen anything wrong with it. He hadn't been reprimanded for anything too harshly as a child either – his mistakes were forgiven and brushed off, because he could afford to make them.

He had been sheltered from the bad sides that emotions could take, so he hadn't ever really learned what they looked like, nor had he frequently felt them himself. He hadn't had a childhood where he felt a range of emotions like anger, and grief and frustration. As a result, he almost felt like he was malfunctioning whenever he felt them. Being raised off of Syhvva had helped a lot, but he still felt disjointed at times whenever simple content wasn't his primary emotion.

His brother was the opposite – he had endured a childhood composed of loneliness and doubt and anger and sadness – he found it hard to feel really happy about things, though he had gotten better over the years. Their emotional spectrums were both precarious and unbalanced, predominantly because of how they had been raised, and so neither of them was perfectly level at any one time.

But never before had Feliciano just felt… _empty_.

The books he had read that all claimed to contain a masterful summation of human emotions were lying. The texts and tomes that had spoken endless paragraphs on the acts of feeling and loving and hurting didn't understand their own topics. They couldn't possibly come close to reaching across the void that had opened up in Feliciano's chest cavity to explain what he was feeling.

 _Void_ was too shallow a word, _cavern_ inaccurate and flawed, _chasm_ incapable of defining the emotions, or lack thereof, that had enshrouded him in their cold arms since last night. There was no known word in any language that Feliciano's tongue knew how to speak that even came close to placing a name on this emptiness, or would be able to start appreciating it's depth and vastness. Because every word that came to mind seemed feeble, weak and incorrect in every way at expressing the nothingness.

Feliciano knew what it felt to be overwhelmed. He knew happiness and joy and also fear and sadness. He knew what it felt like to have thoughts running at a pace that could outstrip the fastest of runners, and his heart hammering more determinedly than a jackhammer. He understood adrenaline and the sensation of being completely in over his head. He knew the feeling of drowning – metaphorical and physical, and understood well how a feeling could become so tangible that it hung heavy like a chain around one's neck or pushed down so strongly that you might have believed a leaden weight to have taken up residence in your chest.

He _knew_ those feelings, understood them and accepted them as a part of life. Emotion was human, it was raw and beautiful and the most intense thing that had no palpable physical source nor cause. He could deal with emotions. It wasn't emotions that bothered him so.

No. Feliciano lacked them. He could have screamed, cried, hyperventilated for shock and fear when he saw his brother being seized by a pair of bronzed arms and dragged down an alley. He could have unleashed a telekinetic hell upon the group that had hauled him off, yelling and kicking wildly.

But his brother had told him not to interfere, and if there was one thing that Feliciano _had_ been taught as a child, it was to obey those who knew better than you did. His brother told him to stay, so he had remained motionless on the rooftop, watching silently as his brother was dragged off, beyond the limits of his sight, and as the Zephyrak had withdrawn quietly, looking a little stunned, before turning on her heel and marching further into the city.

He had kept himself pressed against the hard, crimped roof tiles until he could feel the barest brushes of warmth on the back of his neck that indicated the sun was rising. Only then had he slowly risen from his place of silent, agonised vigil, rearranged his and his brother's belongings into one bag, and descended from the roof.

It had taken him an hour or so to realise that he wasn't feeling anything. That wasn't to say that he had watched his brother get dragged away by pirates and was disinterested, or uncaring.

It was like his capacity to feel had been stripped away and taken along with his brother. Every scrap of every emotion was gone; anger had taken a field day and vacated the front of his chest where it normally would have burned in the aftermath of something like this; hopelessness was refusing to attend the banquet in his head, citing that it's presence was unnecessary where it had already been so closely acquainted; even fear had abandoned him and strode down the street, refusing to let his heart race or palms sweat when loud noises rang out from alleyways or shouts echoed across city blocks.

Everything that he could and should have been feeling refused to come to the surface. He _should_ be angry. He _should_ feel hopeless. He _should_ be afraid. But instead, where those emotions might have once raged and screamed, there existed not even a heavy weight to denote his loss. Rather, he felt nothing. He couldn't process _why_ , but given that he could still barely even process the _what_ that was causing this, it wasn't a surprise.

Feliciano remembered hands, far too large to be ignored, attached to a man far too strong to resist, and the yelp of surprise that had torn itself free of his brother's mouth as he was pulled sideways. He paused, forcing himself to think as he looked around. He was in a street. Not the same street that he had been on earlier. Not the same one where the pirates had taken Lovino-

 _HE'S GONE_

Feliciano felt his mouth flood with saliva, and delicately placed the pack he held down on the ground before pivoting to vomit on the street. His throat should have been burning; his tastebuds should have been recoiling at the taste of bitter acid on his stomach; his eyes should have been tearing up. Maybe they were, and he just couldn't tell. He wiped his mouth on his already-grubby sleeve and straightened up, recollecting the pack and moving on.

His insides rolled unpleasantly, but the sensation felt distant and disconnected, like his mind was refusing to acknowledge it as belonging to the body he was attached to. His legs took him down a narrow side street and his chest turned sideways so he could slip through a very narrow gap between two buildings. His ears picked up on yelling and the sounds of trouble, and gently steered his body away, somewhere mildly safer.

His eyes roved over the buildings and streets around him and searched for a place to take refuge, but his mind remained empty and hollow, not so much as the slightest amount of static disturbing the stillness. He missed the buzz, but even the act of missing it drew no response from the rest of his body, nor did it inspire any singular thought to pass through his mind.

His body moved towards a small window set low against the concrete. It could be jimmied open, and he could probably fit through if he exhaled while he clambered through.

Feliciano wasn't aware either of his acts of jimmying the window open, nor of climbing through. When his brain allowed him to understand what was around him again, he was inside, pressed against the wall of a dingy basement with scrapes on his hands, arms and a low aching sensation across his lower stomach. His legs drew themselves up to his chest, and his arms folded themselves around them. His head lowered, forehead pressed against his knees.

He still felt nothing.

* * *

Feliciano didn't know how much time passed when he decided to move. It could have been days or mere hours, but when he did, something had returned to him. Some small measure of feeling, extracted from the ashen ruins of his emotions, had slithered back to keep him company. His stomach ached, and he briefly registered the sensation before his brain let him process it. He was…hungry?

It seemed absurd, but he rummaged through their bags anyway, extracting only a few small food items when noting the meagre amount that was there to begin with. Once the ache in his gut had dulled a little, he stood and gathered up his things, also pausing to remove something from his brother's bag. He inhaled slowly as he pulled the black wool beanie over his hair, tucking away every last strand of his vibrantly red hair. A brief look out of the damaged window revealed what looked like dawn breaking outside.

He had missed a whole day, sequestered down here with the nothing.

He didn't even have the capacity to feel shocked or upset by that. He hadn't gotten enough of himself back yet.

Feliciano slid gracelessly out of the window and clambered to his feet, brushing the grime from the ground off his hands on his pants before turning down the alley and moving forwards. This was the second day of the Three-day Reign. Judging by the positioning of the sun that he squinted against, he still had about 42 hours of this to endure, assuming that the Reign was exactly 72 hours long. He sighed slightly, something small and bothersome that the back of his mind identified as irritation nudging against his consciousness.

He would deal with whatever came; he could manage that much.

The second day of the Reign wasn't nearly as exciting as the first. All it took for him to avoid detection by the pirate gangs wandering around and laughing raucously was to keep quiet and stay in small alcoves or niches as he moved further towards the boundary between the Szwicza and Riiko Districts. Szwicza was the most dangerous place to be right now, so it was best if he got out as soon as possible.

Feliciano absently glanced up and down another street, focusing more because of the rapidly dimming light. The normal public lighting didn't turn on during the Reign, since the Joğarı keñes – Rela's governmental authority – assumed that most of them would get broken anyway.

The sun was setting rapidly, and Feliciano knew that he would have to find somewhere to rest fairly soon, or else he would be put at danger of suffering the same fate as his brother. His stomach twisted violently as the thought came to mind, and he leaned on the wall briefly as he gagged. Feliciano didn't vomit, but he almost felt that he would have better for it if he had. He swallowed thickly, forcing himself back onto his own feet again. He was starting to feel a few more things now, but he almost felt that the nothing might have been better suited for his current situation.

He was about to cross the street, having spotted no adversaries, when movement at the far end of the street caught his eye. It was a person – dressed in black.

Something inside him – perhaps his reason or common sense or correct judgement – stopped working, and he turned down the street and began to approach them. His stomach was twisting again, but he didn't feel the urge to be sick. Feliciano pressed himself closer to the wall, determined to remain hidden until he could get a positive reading on their identity. He shifted closer. The figure was a woman, judging by their frame. His heart rate picked up, for the first time since Lovino had been dragged down an alley. He slunk into the shadows and repositioned himself, aiming to observe.

The woman turned slightly, and he clenched his fists.

It was her. The Zephyrak who had been after them. The only reason that they had left the sanctuary of their apartment. The only reason that they had been on the streets on one of the three most dangerous nights of the year. The only reason that Lovino had been anyway near pirates to begin with. He felt something deep inside, a familiar prickling as something other than hunger returned to him.

Anger seeped into his body slowly as he followed her down winding streets. It came back piece by piece, fitting oddly inside him, as it always had. He wasn't used to anger, or any strong emotions, but for now, he welcomed it with open arms, begging it's companionship as he followed the woman towards what looked like a sewer entrance.

Where anger was concerned, Feliciano saw it as having two sides; hatred and passion. He didn't know that he hated the woman he was following, but he certainly felt passionately about what she had caused. She was the reason they were out here, with their home of six years smouldering on the other side of the district. She was the reason that his brother had been grabbed and pulled away and abducted from the streets. She was the reason that Feliciano was-

 _ALONE_

He felt the word in his bones as he slid down a narrow shaft, finally alerting the woman to his presence as he dropped into the murky, tepid water behind her. She spun around, but her face was almost invisible in the near-complete darkness of the sewer.

Silence reigned for a minute between them as Feliciano's anger continued to rise steadily, heart thundering in response to the fury that filled the nothing in his chest.

"It's you. The little one." The woman said, voice dispassionate. Feliciano felt the anger flare as she spoke, the prickling sensation in his chest increasing into a crackling, curling feeling, like his muscles were all tensing up in preparation for a fight. Feliciano let out a shaky breath.

"You're the reason that my brother was taken by those pirates." He said. His voice shook slightly, though not from fear, and he felt his hands shaking slightly, jittery as if from nerves even when all he felt was layer upon layer of fresh rage taking over him.

"What a shame."

And those words, spoken so callously by the woman responsible for taking away his home, his safety, and finally his _world_ – those words broke down the last defences that disassociation had given Feliciano that day. Rage was a tidal wave consuming his whole being, filling every crevice of his body as he felt his whole body respond to the emotion building up inside. A sharp feeling shot down his arms, as he recalled something his brother had taught him.

 _Most people say that the Fuenar and the Sopra Kwistjoni are what all members of the Vargas family have in common, but I would disagree with that. What distinguishes us is anger. We're the angriest, most wrathful people on Syhvva. Our people used to be hunters and warlords – our anger was why we're royalty in the first place. Whether you're patient or not, short-tempered or fucking_ saintly _,_ every _member of the Vargas family has a lot of anger._

And Feliciano's raging mind only had time to think _Oh, that's what I was missing, then_ , as the woman stepped forward towards him, knife appearing at her side as he raised his prickling arms, barely blinking as they burst into flame.


	17. Me, You, Them and Us

**Hellloooo once more! I'm glad that you all enjoyed the last chapter, so hopefully, this one is also good! I'm sorry, but I've been very busy lately, in addition to suffering from some writer's block. I still have a completed chapter after this but Chapter 19 is kicking my ass right now. I'll try my best, but I will warn you all if I need a hiatus after this.**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Octavia had a flashback to when her sister died on a mission. Yao brought her body back so she could be buried, an extremely important cultural tradition on Daerna.**  
 **\- Lukas and Riya competed over the obstacle course, and formally introduced themselves to one another.**  
 **\- Matthias apologised for what he said to Lukas, and Lukas forgave him. (Our bois might actually get along now yeet)**  
 **\- Feliciano hid in Bibesti while the Three Days' Reign continued, before following Inkar Akhmetov to make her answer for what she has done. He activated his fire powers for the first time, and is ready to fight.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Mentions of violence, murder, rape, organ-stealing (yes really)**  
 **\- The usual cursing**

 **Enjoy everyone! Please comment!**

* * *

 _Szwizca District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
27th Jaune_

Inkar had never put too much thought into how she would die.

She saw life as a divine gift, given by her mother and father and intended for her to make the most of. She had striven, always, to be bold and adventurous, to take advantage of every opportunity that came her way and to never shy away from a challenge or a problem. Being raised with her brothers and sisters in arms at the Citadel had reaffirmed this, year in and year out of the short 24 years she had lived.

She had lived bravely, she had defended her planet and her people with everything that she had, and Inkar had always felt proud to call herself one of the Zephyrak and a defender of the Relusian people. But, for the first time, she wasn't sure that the decision she had made was the right one. She had watched how Lovino Vargas had fought, and she had been impressed. He was strong, and brave, and he deserved more than the ugly lot that his family had been cast in life. But, all throughout their fight in their apartment, and later in the streets, she had never gotten the impression that he wanted her dead.

The impression she got from his younger brother was a little different.

She didn't think that the thoughts actively travelling through Feliciano Vargas' head were specifically concerned with killing her, but she knew that the teenager was filled with enough vitriolic fury and raw skill to do it by accident. And judging by how angry he was, she doubted that he would regret it much even if he did kill her, at least not straight away.

She threw herself away from another surge of blazing flame, cursing as she felt drops of sweat slide down her face and into the disgusting sewage that she was throwing herself into. The kid didn't seem to know how to use his powers very well; he was running on pure rage and adrenaline, lashing out wildly in her direction.

Inkar cursed again. She had made a mistake in trying to drive the Vargas brothers off Rela. She had been acting in her planet's best interest, but she couldn't deny that, even as she had approached Lovino Vargas to tell him to leave, she had felt guilty. The two brothers had undoubtedly been pushed off every planet they had settled on so far, forced to hide and sneak about to avoid capture and death. She knew that she had been cruel, but, of course, hindsight was always the best teacher.

She ducked again, wincing as a stray flame seared her right hand, dropping low, knees dampening in the filthy water as she slid sideways. Inkar risked a look at the younger Vargas brother. His expression wasn't as angry as she would have expected – no, he looked far more heartbroken than anything else – eyes drowned in grief even as his mouth twisted in frustration. That made her stop dead still. He was just a boy, only about sixteen or seventeen, if her memory served her correctly.

Inkar dropped her hands, feeling her stomach twist. "I'm so sorry." She murmured. She hadn't realised exactly what she was taking away when she had driven Lovino Vargas onto the streets yesterday, but she might understand now.

The younger Vargas paused, arms still raised and glowing with heat. A part of Inkar expected more fire regardless, so she was surprised when he lowered his arms, shaking, before pressing them to his face as a wrecked, anguished sob tore itself free of his throat. Inkar had never heard such a despondent, raw sound before, and it sent goosebumps snaking up her arms and legs. The boy hunched forward a little, pressing one hand to his mouth as he sniffled. She took a half-step backwards, uncertain. His shoulders were shaking, expression crumpled in immense grief. Inkar felt her heart twist in her chest.

"H-he w-w-was e-ev-every-th-thing t-to m-me!" Feliciano sobbed. "I c-can't…I d-don't know w-what t-to do w-without him!" Inkar swallowed, trying to push down the guilt that had steadily begun rising in her chest. She bit her lip. Though there was no guarantee that his brother was dead, there was no guarantee that he was still alive, either.

"I'm sorry." She repeated quietly. "I was just trying to protect my planet." Feliciano sniffed.

"Because we were always such a huge threat to it before?" he asked, tone anguished. Inkar jerked back as if she had been slapped, mouth turning downwards in displeasure. She had initially been seeking to lend the brothers aid, until she had found out that they were housed on Rela. She had been aiming to help them because…

Well, because long ago, her family and theirs had been tight knit; the closest of friends and allies, and the brothers had had everything taken from them, and they deserved a chance.

But now she realised that she had been wrong. They hadn't lost everything – they'd had each other, and rather than the Union, it was _her_ that was responsible for that being torn from their hands. Inkar sucked in a deep breath.

"I wasn't thinking…about the pirates." She murmured. "I was so absorbed in the situation that I forgot about the Three Day's Reign." Feliciano sighed, folding his arms protectively around himself as he moved to sit on the low stone bank of the sewer.

"Yeah, Lovino forgot too," he said, tone sorrowful, "we both did." Inkar stared at him for a moment, hesitating, before she joined him on the ledge. He didn't react negatively to her proximity, so she assumed he was fine with it. She sighed.

"I really am sorry." She said. "I wasn't thinking about anyone but my people." Feliciano sighed.

"How is it that you manage to be both selfish and selfless at the same time?" he murmured, smiling sadly. "That's not fair." Inkar mirrored his sad look, and gently ran her boot over the water, watching ripples spread through the disgusting, murky sludge. She sighed. She had made a grievous mistake, an error resulting in something awful. She had wronged two innocent people. The mantra oft repeated by Mother Aimira echoed around in her head.

 _"The only one responsible for your mistakes is you. In any situation where your mistakes affect someone else, you should prostrate yourself before them and do whatever you must to amend the damage."_

It was one of the long-time teachings of the Citadel, and if there was one thing Inkar was, it was a loyal soldier.

"Listen, Feliciano – may I call you Feliciano?" he nodded, and she continued. "Your brother was detained by the pirates due to my own fault. In cases where a Zephyrak's actions result in some sort of damage to an innocent party, it is customary for us to offer that person aid in whatever way they require it. If you would accept it, I would like to offer you help to make up for the pain I have caused you and your brother." Feliciano blinked at her, looking surprised.

"You want to help me?" he said. "What side are you _on_?"

"I made a mistake in hunting you two down, and I am sorry. I would like to make amends. Is there any way I can help you?" Feliciano stared at her for a long moment, before something in his eyes shifted.

"Okay then. You can help me get my brother back from those pirates. Does that sound reasonable?" Inkar nodded. She had been expecting something along those lines.

"Fair enough. I am Inkar, by the way." Feliciano nodded.

"Got it. So, Inkar, do you have any idea where my older brother would be?" Inkar frowned slightly.

"I have a fairly good idea…"

* * *

 _Onboard the SS Larcenist,  
Anchored above Bibesti, Rela,  
27th Jaune_

The Captain smiled at her reflection, adjusting the string of black pearls she had torn off a half-dead pregnant woman in the Kirkos District. She turned to the side slightly, admiring their gentle sheen and the way they complimented her dark skin and vibrant scarlet coat. Her gaze slid sideways, to the open glass panel in the side of her room that currently gave her a view of the vast sprawl of Bibesti.

It was a nice enough city, she supposed, but far too large. The poor districts grew exponentially each year while the rich ones stayed about the same size. The city would be overwhelmed by a tide of people living in slums and shanties soon enough, if the growing numbers were not tempered a little.

That was what Rela's transport minister had told her three days ago when he had requested a video conversation with her.

 _"If you are set on committing such atrocious acts within the bounds of the city, at least target areas where populations are not falling. We are trying to preserve Bibesti's status as an evolving city, after all."_

She scoffed at the thought. The only places where the population wasn't gradually falling was in the slums. Though he maintained an air of morality and unambiguous disgust in her actions and choice of career, he was just as bad.

She tried to ease the process where possible. For the poorest of the poorest, she had instructed her underlings that death should be quick and relatively painless. For those who had a little more money to throw around…well, if her subordinates decided that a little carnal fun or senseless violence was in order, she had given them leave to do as they wished. The woman whose pearls she had taken was the daughter of a wealthy heiress who was arrogant enough to believe that money protected her. She deserved what she got.

A low buzzing from the electronic console near her bedside drew her attention, and she abandoned her admiration of her spoils to investigate the source. A smile stretched wide across her face as she realised what it was. A request for a video-call, from none other than Jack Kelly. She allowed the request, waiting for the video screen on her wall to start working.

A grinning, ruggedly handsome face appeared on her screen, before it's owner leant back a little. She smiled.

"Jack, good to see you again." Jack Kelly grinned. He was one of the most nefarious pirates out there, and yet even his victims couldn't help but swoon when he showed up. Blessed with warm olive skin, a square jaw, wavy brown hair speckled with sun-bleached blond strands, a handful of freckles splashed across his nose, bright emerald eyes and an unplaceable accent which she personally theorised was from the Far Reaches, he was one of the most charming criminals running around the Galaxy right now.

"Captain Barkhado Dirie," he said, grin widening as he placed a hand over his heart, "It is bloody _marvellous_ to see you again. Top job with your hair today, I like it." Barkhado rolled her eyes. Her hair looked the same as it always did; knit into numerous small braids, interwoven with gold thread, jewels and tiny feathers, and pulled into a high ponytail. She grinned regardless, showing her slightly pointed front teeth.

"Thank you, Jack. You look…exactly the same." The handsome pirate grinned, dipping his jaw a little.

"I'll take what compliments I can from you, Barkhado." Jack said, smirking. "How're things down in Rela? Having fun with your little minions?"

"It's been fun." She indicated the pearl necklace. "I got these this morning." Jack whistled.

"Nice. I'm sorry about bailing, by the way. One of my underlings had to duck to a hospital to shove out another little ankle biter." Barkhado blinked. Noting her confusion, Jack snorted. "Kid, Barkhado, a damn kid, alright." She shook her head. The origin of most of Jack's phrases were lost on her. Other than the fact that he had been friends with Arthur Kirkland at one point, and that his criminal record had been extensive even before he became a pirate, she didn't know too much about him.

"It's your loss." She said smoothly. "The pluck is good this year." Jack grinned.

"Get me something nice, won't you?" she hummed.

"What's the point? I won't be seeing you for so long that anything _really good_ would have spoiled by then." Jack's grin widened.

"But that's what I was ringing about! See, I postponed our meeting because Neki was meant to have her baby then, but the little bugger is premature, you see, so I can push our little appointment forward a few weeks." Barkhado leant forward, eyebrow quirked curiously even as she began to smile wider.

"Oh? How much sooner can we meet then?" she asked. Jack grinned, scratching his chin with the hilt of a knife.

"Three weeks, perhaps?" he asked, smiling coyly. "At the Red Pike, like old times?"

"Minus dear Arthur, of course." She lamented. Jack sighed.

"Yeah. No clue where the guy's buggered off to, in all honesty." Jack said. "But what do you say? We can meet up, grab some lunch and talk over some trade deals?" a malicious grin spread across his face. "I know that you'll have some good stuff for me after the Reign." Barkhado grinned.

"That I will. Send the details along to me later, won't you?" Jack nodded, smiling.

"Of course. A pleasure to see you, as always, Barkhado." She nodded.

"And you," she said, tone much warmer than it normally was, "I should probably see what pretty little things my subordinates are dragging to my doorstep." With a final wave, Jack's rugged face vanished from the video screen. Barkhado grinned. It seemed that she would get to see her friend soon after all.

A loud knocking rang out from her door. She looked up sharply, before pressing the button to let the door slide open. One of her subordinates was standing there. She relaxed infinitesimally – he was one of the ones she genuinely liked.

"Yes?" she drawled, pulling a knife from her belt and absently tossing it up and down. Her subordinate didn't even flinch at this, dipping his head a little in deference.

"Sorry for disturbing you, Captain, but the crew has reassembled to show off their spoils. We await your presence and judgement." Barkhado felt her good mood improve even further. There was nothing she loved more than seeing what treasures her subordinates had collected during the Reign.

"Lead the way." She said, voice dripping with anticipation.

The main hangar of the ship was buzzing when she entered, and Barkhado felt her stomach flip with excitement as she ran her eyes over the heaps of riches and spoils she could see piled up on the floor and slung under the arms and over the shoulders of her underlings. They had done well already, and the Reign was only half done.

She marched up to the raised dais near the front of the room, wicked grin in place. They fell silent as she did so, watching, some gleefully and others in a more subdued way. She tilted her head to the side.

"Well? Who wants to show off first?"

"I will!" one of her favoured underlings piped up, grinning as he hauled forwards a large leathery suitcase. "Found a woman in Kirko fleeing with all of her riches stuffed into this suitcase." He flipped it open, revealing rows upon rows of what looked to be inherited jewellery. Barkhado sucked in a breath, grinning.

"May I, Santos?" she asked him. He nodded, gesturing to the suitcase. She stepped forwards, wandering over to the case and sifting through the contents. There were countless pieces of undoubtedly priceless jewels. She extracted a glittering, emerald and obsidian necklace, examining it with a feral grin in place. "I might hold onto this one for now, Santos. I'd appreciate a deeper look in the future."

"Of course, Captain." Santos said, dipping his head as he swung the suitcase closed. Barkhado stashed the glittering necklace into her pocket and moved back to the front.

They came forward one by one, some hauls more impressive than others. She roamed her eyes greedily over jewels, fine clothing, piles of coins, paintings, even cuts of exotic meats and other food stolen from Bibesti's best delis and cafés. Her grin turned dark and menacing when her subordinates brought forward their more unusual treasures. Rather than gold and riches, she was greeted with the sight of coolers stuffed full of organs ripped directly from bodies, with human bones that they could polish and sharpen into blades and craft into jewellery. She listened with interest to their stories of the pillage as well, as they recounted murders and rapes and true reigns of terror. When they were all done, however, she turned her gaze on one subordinate who had remained silent the entire time.

"Klaus, do you have nothing to offer to this fine parade of victory?" she asked, tone turning icier as she spoke. Klaus dipped his head in deference.

"I do, Captain, but I wished to see everyone else's collections first." He grinned, dusting off the worn blue frock-coat he was wearing. "And I'm proud to say that, in terms of net worth, mine is the most precious." He reached behind him and dragged forwards…a person? Barkhado tilted her head to the side slightly. They were male, judging by their frame, and Klaus had bound him by the hands, which were tightly fastened behind him, had a rope slightly more loosely wrapped around his legs, and a bag twisted tight around his head. Barkhado raised an eyebrow.

"Now now now, my dear Klaus. You know that we can't sell free citizens as slaves. It's the _law_." Her subordinates laughed at the sarcasm, but the smile on Klaus' face didn't falter as he seized his prisoner by the back of his shirt and hauled him forwards, until he stood only a few metres away from her.

"I am aware of that, my Captain, but I feel like the traders will take less offence with this specific citizen." He untied the bag looped around the man's neck and yanked it off. Barkhado blinked as – of all colours – red came into her vision. She stared, before a great grin stretched across her face and she let out a delighted noise, clapping her hands together.

"Oh, marvellous!" she exclaimed as she stepped forwards a little to examine the deep burgundy of the prisoner's hair. "Oh, my, Klaus, you've done well this time." Klaus dipped his head slightly.

"Thank you, Captain. I'm glad that you're pleased with my find." She let out a giggle, high and, as she had been told, oddly menacing. She strode forward the last few metres between her and the chained boy on the ground, taking a fistful of his hair and yanking his head upwards, examining his face and eyes.

"Ohh, my, what a pretty face, too," she purred, "and those eyes!" the boy squirmed, averting his gaze from hers. She stared at the rich, amber shade of the boy's eyes. She hadn't been lying when she'd said he was pretty, too. She doubted that she had seen a face so perfectly structured before, nor so wonderfully complimented by it's colouring. The olive skin, dark and long eyelashes, amber eyes and red hair. She purred again. "You win, Klaus. An excellent find."

Klaus nodded again, smiling triumphantly as he stepped back into line with the others. Barkhado dropped the boy's head, circing him. "My, my, my. A _Syhvvanian_. You'll fetch a brilliant price on the market. I'd wager twice the normal rate for the ethnicity alone. If you factor in that delicious face and body of yours, well, we'll be able to celebrate _quite_ richly." She straightened up, snapping her fingers. "Take him to the cell on level 2, near my chambers. We'll put him into general holding later." She shot the boy a look. "I'd like to have a chat first."

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
27th Jaune_

Emilia couldn't even lie to herself anymore; she missed her brother.

It had only been a week since he had taken off to fight on their home planet with one of the bounty hunters who knew his identity, but she was already feeling a deep ache in her chest. It was the kind that she used to associate with homesickness, but it manifested now that Lukas was gone.

She supposed it made a kind of sense. He had been her shelter, her safety and protector since she was five years old, and he was on an entirely different planet. It made her feel a little strange, in all honesty.

Emilia knew that she should just get over it – he was doing something important in helping their people and fighting the Union head on, and she had her own problems to worry about – but she couldn't help the melancholy that rose up inside her when she realised that she wouldn't be hearing Lukas' snarky responses to everything, or seeing him roll his eyes in exasperation, for quite a while. Yao had dodged the question when she had marched over to ask how long Lukas would be on Fynkn, but Octavia had admitted that it could end up being _months_ until he came back. Emilia folded her arms around her. Months on a planet full of hostile Union agents who would stop at nothing to kill her brother if they knew who he was. It wasn't a comforting thought.

At the very least, she had been able to celebrate her sixteenth birthday with him. It had fallen the day before he was set to leave, and he had careened into the tent she shared with two other female recruits holding a cake he'd stolen from the kitchen in one hand and a small bag of presents in the other. Her roommates had simply thrown her a grin and left, leaving Emilia to spend time alone with her brother.

They'd spent hours seated together on the carpet, talking about everything and nothing as they had munched on lemon cake and Emilia had eagerly torn into the presents her brother had gotten her. She had exclaimed in delight over the padded gloves he'd gotten her for the hand-to-hand combat training she did with Nelia, and grinned when she had pulled a small metal tag emblazoned with their family crest and Lukas had helped her attach it to her existing dog-tags. Not all of the presents had been from him; he had also handed her a gilded bronze knife from Ali, with a note attached to it that promise he would train her in it's use soon, as well as a verifiable truckload of chocolates from Tino, and a very heartwarming letter of thanks and biker mask from Tori.

Even Matthew had managed to hunt down a badass pair of moon-crescent earrings and also gifted them to her. It had almost made her eyes well up, seeing how many people cared that she was becoming a year older. Just last year, it had only been Lukas and her celebrating together. In fact, it had been her first birthday since she was five years old that she had gotten something from someone other than Lukas. That, combined with the weight of the knowledge that her brother would leave the next day, had sent her into tears. Lukas had sat and hugged her for a good hour, but even that hadn't managed to quite dispel the heaviness in her chest that had persisted for the last week.

She wished that she could just _talk_ to her brother. Even hearing his voice – laden with irritation and delivered in a flawless deadpan – would have made her feel better. At the very least, though, she wasn't alone. She had her friends, not to mention the rebels who had been mentoring her, if she needed help or felt upset. Emilia hadn't had such things for a long time, so it often took her a minute to remember that they were options, too.

Emilia stretched, wincing as her shoulder let out a small cracking noise. She had training later with Ali, but for now, she was free to do as she wished, and she desperately wanted a distraction. She cast her mind towards her friends, thoughts immediately settling on Tori. The other girl never seemed to mind her younger age, and was always keen to talk. Casting her mind around the camp, Emilia sifted absently through people's minds until she found the Daernic princess's.

Tori felt indecisive, and Emilia wondered why as she wove her way through tents to locate her friend's. Raising a hand, she flapped the tent 'door', which essentially counted as knocking here.

"Come in!" Tori called out. Ducking inside, Emilia looked around, curious, until she spotted Tori curled up on the edge of her bed, a cell clutched in her hand. Tori grinned when she saw Emilia. "Lia, hey! How are you?" Emilia smiled, moving to sit next to her.

"I'm fine, but what about you? You feel a little…anxious, almost." Tori winced, smile turning a little sad as she drummed her fingers on the cell's gleaming, flat surface.

"Damn you and your awesome mind-reading skills." She chuckled. "I was hoping to hide that fact from you." Emilia frowned slightly.

"What's up?" she asked. Tori sighed, tucking a loose lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I…I was planning to look at my profile. On the Index, that is. I'm kinda curious of what the Union is advertising about me, but…" she trailed off, staring at the dark screen. "I don't know why, but I feel a little scared to see."

Emilia smiled sympathetically. Tori had been slow to fully accept that she was royalty, and a lot of aspects of it still seemed very foreign to the Daernic girl. She had taken it like a champ, in all honesty, when Lukas had dumped the information of her real identity on her back in Apryl. Emilia didn't think that she would have been able to handle the situation even half as well as Tori had, and yet the older girl still seemed to doubt herself so much, even when she had no reason to.

Emilia shuffled closer to her. "It's not as bad as it seems, actually. Lukas showed me mine when I was about 11. It was scary to think about, but, really, that profile is there and being seen by people whether you look at it or not. Seeing it would just make you aware of what it says."

Tori bit her lip, but smiled and nodded. "I guess you're right." She hesitated a moment longer, then held out her hand. "I think that I literally need someone to hold my hand throughout this." Smiling, Emilia took her hand and squeezed it comfortingly as Tori flicked the cell on and searched for her own name. The profile appeared at the top of the listings immediately and, sucking in a tense breath, Tori opened it.

* * *

 _FULL NAME: Viktorija Kamile Laurinaitis  
_ _BIRTHDATE: 16th Fybwari, 4493CC  
_ _AGE: 19  
_ _GENDER: Female  
_ _ETHNICITY: Daernic  
_ _HEIGHT: Between 5'3'' and 5'7'' (genetic estimation only)  
_ _PHYSICAL TRAITS: Dark brown hair, fair skin (potentially somewhat browned from sun exposure), freckles (at last sighting), and ethnically consistent green eyes with a gold circle flaring out from the pupils.  
_ _PLANET OF ORIGIN: Daerna  
_ _STATUS: Crown Princess of Daerna. Status unknown as of Maii 4512CC  
_ _MONETARY BOND: **55,000,000,000** |MK| (55 Billion Standard Marks*)  
_ _NOTES: Daughter of late Queen Gabija Laurinaitis of Daerna and Prince Regent Augustinas Laurinaitis. Wanted for suspected collaboration and involvement with rebel terrorist cells and potential incitement of uprising, insurgency and violence in the Union Republic of Daerna. Last sighting occurred during the Union Intervention of 4501CC.  
Monetary bond/'bounty' is current as of the 16th of Maarch, 4512CC. Minor monetary rewards may be applicable for information pertaining to the subject._

 _*Amount may vary depending on current exchange rates_

* * *

She looked over it silently. Emilia skimmed it – she had read it before anyway – and watched her friend carefully. Tori tightened her grip on Emilia's hand briefly, but then seemed to relax a little.

"It's…not as bad as I thought." She said, sounding relieved. "I mean, they're offering an absurd amount of money for me, of course, but it's not slapped with banners telling people to hunt me down and kill me, at least." Emilia grinned.

"I suspect that if the Union could get away with that, they would've." She said. "You feeling alright?"

Tori nodded. "Yeah. Thanks, Lia." Emilia shrugged.

"What are friends for?" she said, smiling. Tori grinned back, squeezing her hand briefly again before letting go and standing up, stowing the cell on her bedside table.

"You busy for the rest of the day?" Tori asked. Emilia sighed.

"I have training with Ali in about two hours, but other than that, no, not really." Tori spun around, grinning.

"Alright then. You are going to meet my _other_ friends."

* * *

"You know we love you, Tori, but when you said you were bringing a surprise I was expecting, like, food." Tori huffed out a disbelieving breath, shooting Antonio a look as the Jhobrasian grinned, tilting his head in Emilia's direction. "No offence, princess." Emilia shrugged, looking unbothered.

"I mean, mood." Tori rolled her eyes as Antonio brightened up, grinning at the Fynknian girl in delight.

"Try to at least act like meeting royalty is a novelty, Antonio." She sighed. Feliks piped up.

"In our defence, she's like, the third royal figure we've met. It's not quite as 'wow' the third time."

"That's what she said." Antonio muttered. Natalya audibly groaned, picking up a discarded shoe and tossing it at his head. Tori tried and failed to stifle a grin. She had almost forgotten how fun her criminal friends were. With how hectic her schedule had gotten recently, she hadn't been able to visit them as much, to her own disappointment. She liked to let loose a little around them, and drop the formalities that were necessary outside this cell block.

Francis cleared his throat a little. "Have you heard anything from Matthias?" Tori frowned a little, looking down.

"No, nothing yet. But they've only been gone a week, so I doubt that much has happened. I'm honestly just wondering how well they're getting along." Emilia snorted.

"I don't mean to make you all miserable, but my brother is one of the most emotionally reticent and stubborn people I know. I get along with him for sheer necessity and convenience. From what I've seen of your friend, he looks very outgoing and cheery. I don't think they'll be best buddies." Tori sighed.

"Yeah, I kinda guessed that. They don't really have compatible personalities. I mean, they seem to have the same knack for intuition and reasoning, but other than that they might as well be polar opposites." Francis laughed.

"Well, it's not our problem, I guess." He mused. "Do tell us if you get any news, though?" Tori nodded vigorously.

"Of course!" she exclaimed. "Don't be so confident that they would even tell me what's going on, though. Yao's been even more cagey than usual recently." Tori turned to Feliks.

"So, how are you guys doing? The cell isn't getting you guys down too much, is it?" Feliks shrugged, shifting his arms to settle them across his knees as he leant forward a little. Tori made eye contact with him, repeating over and over in the back of her head that she was _not_ going to stare at the muscles in his arms. She had _class_ , goddamn it.

"It's alright, I suppose. A lot quieter without Matthias, of course, but that's to be expected. How're things on your end?" Tori broke eye contact with him to glance at Emilia.

"Good. Very hectic. Alfred and Gilbert were enlisted to help fix up a ship I think. They'd be here, otherwise." Feliks nodded his head, running a hand back through his blond hair (Tori focussed on the wall behind him to avoid eyeing the sharp line of his jaw, and it was a fascinating wall, yes).

"Sounds like they're settling in okay then." He murmured. Roderich leant forwards.

"And what about our deranged captain?" the Incandan drawled. "Do you know how he's doing?"

Tori felt her heart race with excitement as she realised, they _didn't know_. She looked over at Emilia, who grinned widely. She pointed at the Fynknian girl.

"Do you know…?" Emilia nodded.

"Ohhh _yeahh_ I do. Lukas told me when he got back." She was smiling. "He knows I love gossip even though he says he despises it." Tori grinned. Everyone was staring at the two of them, looking baffled and confused.

"What? Did I miss something?" Francis asked, looking between them. Tori laughed.

"Oh, Alfred and Arthur are dating now." She said. "It's actually adorable."

Natalya huffed. "Well, that's the least surprising thing I've heard all year. Those two were practically undressing one another with their eyes anyway. It was only a matter of time." Roderich just rolled his eyes.

"I can't say that I find this a shocking revelation either, though thank you for the update, Tori." He said politely, inclining his head a little. Tori found her gaze landing back on Feliks, who was grinning.

"Alfred, that sneaky little shit." Feliks said, shaking his head. "Good for him, anyway. I wish I had that kind of luck in the romance department." She made eye contact with him again as he looked up, and felt her cheeks go a little warm as she looked away. The only people not overtly celebrating the news were Berwald – who never reacted to anything anyway, Vash – who obviously couldn't care less, and Francis – whose expression wasn't necessarily hostile, but was definitely a little strained. Tori winced. She knew that he and Arthur had a complicated history, so he probably wasn't celebrating the fact that someone he disliked was now with one of his close friends.

She turned away, blinking in surprise when she saw how much the light had shifted since their conversation had begun. Tori sighed.

"Sorry to cut this short, but I gotta get going. I have duties over at the med tent." Emilia glanced at her watch and made a face.

"Ugh, yeah, I gotta go train with Ali in about ten minutes, so I should head off too." She turned to the cell door. "Nice to meet you all." They all raised their hands in farewell, murmuring their goodbyes. Tori hesitated, before crouching down next to the bars where Feliks was sitting.

"Anyway, I'll come by again when I can." She said. Feliks blinked, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"I look forward to it, princess." He said. Tori nodded, turning to hide the slight flush in her cheeks at the nickname, and stood, following Emilia out.

After a few moments, she decided to breach the subject. "So, how are they, really?" introducing Emilia to her friends hadn't been her only objective. Tori knew that her friends underexaggerated their feelings and conditions for her peace of mind. As someone who could read minds and emotions as easily as one could a book, Emilia was key to helping figure out what they really meant. The Fynknian girl sighed.

"They…aren't doing that well. Most of them are starting to slip into depression, if I'm being completely honest. They feel like their situation is hopeless. You being there made them a lot happier, but overall, no, they aren't doing so well." Tori bit her lip, looking down.

"They really are nice people, though." Emilia said, in an obvious attempt to cheer her up. "They seem cool." Tori forced a smile.

"Yeah, they are." They walked together in silence for a few minutes before Emilia piped up again.

"And I gotta agree with you. That blond guy _does_ have nice muscles." Tori felt heat flood into her face, and yelped, smacking Emilia on the arm as the Fynknian laughed.

"Oh my god shut up shut upppppp." She groaned, burying her face in her hands. Emilia continued to laugh.

"I'm sorry, you were just so _vocal_ about that." Tori grumbled something unintelligible as Emilia grinned and looped their arms together as she leant over to whisper in Tori's ear. "Oh, and by the way? He likes you too."

With a final grin, Emilia disengaged her arm from Tori's and sprinted off to training, leaving a very flushed and very pleased Daernic girl behind her.

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn  
28th Jaune_

In the nine days that Lukas had been on Fynkn, he felt like he had gotten a pretty good impression of what everyone else in Block D was like. Though having the ability to detect and manipulate other people's emotions was an added bonus, Lukas had always been good at telling how people were feeling. He could read the smallest tells and twitches of people's facial expressions, and pick up on how they were feeling with minimal evidence. He had always been a very perceptive person, and he prided himself on it. He considered his evaluations of people to be quite accurate.

So far, what he had been able to gather of Riya Kristoff was that she was exceedingly quiet, competitive when the situation called for it, interacted with almost no-one save when it was absolutely necessary, and despite holding herself with dignity, didn't seem to have any sort of desire to seek company outside of her own and didn't seem to see much merit in the general pursuit of happiness.

So, when she chose to sit down right across the table from him at dinner, he was more than a little baffled. They hadn't interacted much since their little competition in training two days ago, save the occasional nod of recognition or maybe a curious look on Kristoff's part from across the hall during mealtimes. She tended to be the sort to enter the hall for meals almost dead-last and sit only at the seats that were left, showing no sort of preference for any one person or table. If she had the option, she tended to remove herself as much from everyone else as was possible.

So, her willingly sitting right across from him was bizarre, especially given that he had arrived rather early, and the dining hall was still very empty, with a treasure trove of free spaces in which one could sequester themselves away. And yet, the dark-haired girl chose to dump her tray right across from him and slump into the adjoined seat, nodding to him in recognition. Lukas blinked at her, a little taken aback but not irritated by her presence. He dug his fork back into the sad excuse for pork that sat on his plate, turning it over slowly before he felt compelled to actually question her presence.

"I thought you were more fond of solitude?" he asked simply, letting his gaze drift from his meal to Kristoff's face after a moment. Kristoff shrugged, stabbing an unidentifiable vegetable with her fork and sticking it in her mouth, chewing for a few moments before answering.

"I normally am." She responsed simply. Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"I see." He didn't bother asking any more questions – she didn't seem to be in the mood to be questioned. He turned his attention back to his meal. "You know, I was told that this is pork, but I'm not entirely sure that they're telling the truth." Kristoff hummed quietly, nodding a little.

"Yes, I must admit that this meat appears more similar to rat than it does pork." Lukas wrinkled his nose good-naturedly, shrugging.

"I mean, probably not the worst thing I've ever had, but still not overtly appetising." He said, chewing another portion of the tough meat thoughtfully. Kristoff tilted her head at him.

"Oh, that's right. You were _lang av verden_ , weren't you?" Lukas hummed. He had heard the phrase before, and quickly linked it back to people like himself. _Lang av verden_ – long off-world; meaning, in this context, Fynknians who had escaped the planet during the Expansion and avoided the oppression that everyone else had suffered since. Not that their situation had been much better, in all honesty. Lukas still remembered the long days that he had spent starved out of his mind, crawling into small stone alcoves with Emilia to escape cold weather and the twisted crooks who enjoyed hunting down children to torment.

"Yup." He said, popping the 'p' gently. "I don't know much of what life was like here, but it was not fun being off-world." Kristoff inclined her head, sipping at the bitter, dark coffee in her cup.

"Yeah, it wasn't too good here, either." She said simply, sculling down more of the coffee. Unsure of how to continue the conversation, or even if he should, Lukas fell silent, poking at his food with disinterest as the room started to fill with more people. All of the Blocks ate together, and he couldn't deny that it was interesting to observe the people from the other buildings.

Block A were a noisy bunch; rambunctious and full of energy. They specialised in combat training, so they were all lean and corded with muscle. It seemed to be normal fare among them to have facial or neck scars, or some sort of remnant from another type of gruesome injury. They were all sharp smiles and eager boasts and looks just a little too threatening to be harmless. Even though, in terms of training, Lukas would rather be learning combat, he couldn't say that he regretted not being in Block A.

Block B were the strategists and thinkers. They seemed to be an intellectual bunch, and Lukas had got along with everyone from there that he had met so far, though he had noted a few that clearly thought themselves superior to everyone else, and Lukas couldn't stand people like that. A lot of them seemed to be generally queasy where battle was concerned, though they did just fine in physical training.

Block C were the medics. They didn't do as much physical training as the rest of them did, and spent the majority of their time in training, learning how to stitch gashes and suture wounds and amputate frostbitten limbs with remarkable efficiency. They learned how to run fast and sure-footed, how to duck low to avoid rifle fire and how to keep cool under pressure. Most of them were fairly mild people, each with either a good dosage of compassion or a desire to not do actual fighting.

Lukas hadn't really spent much time with anyone outside of Block D, in all honesty. They were a good group of people, and he didn't often feel like associating with the more self-absorbed types found in Blocks A and B, and was hardly around those from C Block enough to really care about them. He found himself often enough in the company of his bunkmate, Ansel, his babysitter Køhler and, more recently, Riya Kristoff, to never really feel like he was lacking in companions.

As if on cue, Køhler dropped into the seat next to him, shooting Kristoff a brief, puzzled look and nodding neutrally at Lukas as he poked at his meal, making a face as he did so.

They had still been a little on edge around each other yesterday, but things finally seemed to be cooling down a little between them. Lukas couldn't help but be relieved that they weren't at as fierce odds as they had been at a few days prior. They were stuck here together, so they might as well get over it. The Rywanese man actually wasn't a bad conversationalist, once he got going, though Lukas had the habit of tuning him out a little. He talked a little _too_ much.

He watched Køhler grimace at the food for a few moments before Sergeant Kalis, the muscular, intimidating brute of a man who overlooked Block A, stood up and yelled to get everyone's attention. The sound of conversation bled out of the hall gradually as everyone turned to look at him curiously. Lukas furrowed his brow, noting that Kristoff looked just as confused as he did. He exchanged a look with her before turning his attention fully to the Sergeant.

Kalis grumbled a little, running a hand through his rangy silver hair. "Alright listen up, everybody. We have some important news to tell you." Lukas let his gaze slide from Kalis over to the other Sergeants. Kolden looked like he was trying to swallow something very unpleasant, expression twisted in distaste. The two other Sergeants – Honna, who took care of Block B's strategists, and Lubok, who managed the medics of C – also looked displeased and, if Lukas was reading their expressions correctly – _worried_. He frowned. Whatever was going on, it clearly was something that none of the Sergeants were happy with.

"In the last few weeks, our active soldier numbers have gone into a deficit. Essentially, there are more people injured than there are actively fighting. As you can imagine, this is bad. Guerrilla squads have been hit pretty hard as well. Due to this, Kommandor Hansen has handed down an order to fast-track your training. Instead of another five weeks of training, you will have three. I know this is sudden," he said, raising his voice over the uprising of noise from the recruits, "but it is necessary. Due to it being the most important aspect of your training, Blocks A and D will be moving directly into combat training, starting today. Sorry kids, but they need your help."

Sergeant Kalis stepped away, face stony, as the hall erupted into noises of confusion, shock, and in some cases, fear. Lukas blinked in surprise as Køhler grunted non-commitedly beside him.

"At least we won't be stuck here for a whole month." The bounty hunter murmured. Lukas sent him a measured look, then shrugged.

"I suppose. It'll be interesting to see how everyone else handles the combat training, though."

"I'm willing to bet that they'll fail miserably at it." Kristoff interjected. When Lukas looked over at her, she shrugged. "Most people here are farmers. They're hardly elite." Lukas inclined his head in a slight nod.

"Yes, I guess you're right." He murmured.

"Block D! Up and at 'em! We have a shit-ton of training to get through in the next few weeks!" Kolden yelled. Køhler groaned, shoving his tray away and standing up, shooting Lukas a miserable look.

"Fuck I want out of this." He groaned. Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Deal with it, moron." He said simply. Køhler sighed.

"Jackass." Lukas turned away, but not quite fast enough to miss the burgeoning smile on the bounty hunter's face.


	18. Don't Tell Me Who I Am

**Okkaaaayyyy sorry for that hiatus last week! If I'm being completely honest I still only have about 3000 words for Chapter 19, but I just handed in a slew of assignments so I should have more time to brainstorm and write now! On the bright side, this chapter clocks in at 10,656 words, so it should feed y'all for at least a little while.**

 **Because I forgot to mention last time (like an idiot):**  
 **Barkhado Dirie: Somalia**  
 **Jack Kelly: Australia**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Inkar and Feliciano have now joined forces to find Lovino, though Feliciano doesn't trust her much.**  
 **\- The pirates of Barkhado Dirie's crew enjoyed their spoils from the Three-Day Reign. One of their prizes was Lovino, whom Barkhado is thinking of selling.**  
 **\- Emilia spent some quality time with Tori and the two bonded together, also going to visit the group still shut in prison. Tori and Feliks flirted a bit, and they all found out that Arthur and Alfred are dating, which Francis wasn't too pleased about.**  
 **\- Riya Kristoff came out of her shell a little and talked to Lukas. The whole group of trainees were informed that their training time has been shortened from 5 weeks to 3.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Minor injuries and swearing as per usual.**  
 **\- Discussions of sexual abuse and implied past rape/non-con. There isn't much detail but there are a few throwaway lines which might put people off.**

 **As always, I hope you guys enjoy, and please please please review! I need all the support I can get to crawl out of this writer's block hole that I'm stuck in.**

* * *

 _Onboard the SS Larcenist,  
Anchored above Bibesti, Rela,  
28th Jaune_

Lovino was already awake by the time that the pirates came for him again. He pressed himself against the cold metal walls, wishing more than anything that he could slide through the metal and disappear. He wondered what it would be like to have gifts like the Zephyraks; to be able to slip through solid objects and fall through the sky knowing that the wind would catch you was probably a comforting thought. He shuddered, pressing his back against the wall even as the rivulets of nails dug into his skin a little.

He had been completely unsure of why the intimidating pirate Captain had wanted to talk to him privately, but that mystery had solved itself very quickly. The tall, dark-skinned woman had simply spent several minutes gazing at his eyes, muttering to herself about whether or not she should carve one of them out as a souvenir, before simply sating herself by cutting out a chunk of his hair and slicing one of his arms open to taste his blood. She had proceeded to then pull a dark wool beanie from her pocket and cover every last strand of his hair with it, stating that only she wanted to see it from then on.

He didn't think he had ever met anyone so disturbed.

He feared similar treatment this morning, in all honesty. Lovino hadn't slept all night out of fear that one of them would catch him off guard or attack him. He had heard stories of what some pirates did to their prisoners, and he did not want to be on the receiving end.

The door to the exceedingly small and dark cell was thrown open, the tall, dark-haired man who had originally captured him – Klaus – strode inside, grinning as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Good morning, my fine little catch." He crooned, reaching out a hand to run through Lovino's hair. "I must say, Barkhado was right. You are a pretty little thing." Lovino's expression morphed into a scowl as he jerked his head away from the man's hand. Klaus chuckled. "Being difficult won't get you anywhere. Come on." He seized Lovino by the collar and dragged him to his feet, hauling him out the door.

Lovino took the opportunity to look around the ship as he was dragged around. It had dark metal walls and linoleum floors clearly designed to be easy to clean. He swallowed. The ship must be large, given how many flights of stairs he staggered down – definitely about five storeys or so. He wrinkled his nose as they descended onto a flat, dark floor. The only light around came from above, in the stairwell. They were right in the bowels of the ship. He grimaced as he was dragged down a dark, musty hallway by Klaus, who was whistling softly under his breath.

They approached a thick-set metal door. Lovino strained his ears, and could hear a low murmuring coming from behind it. Klaus stepped forwards and wrenched it open, all noises immediately ceasing as he did so. Lovino was just able to catch a glimpse of a room full of bedraggled, miserable looking people before Klaus transferred his grip from his shirt to his neck.

"Morning." The pirate said cheerfully. "Got a new friend for you all." And with that, he tightened his grip on Lovino's neck, digging his nails into his skin painfully before tossing him forwards onto the hard metal floor. His head slammed into the metal hard, and he winced, refusing to give the pirate the satisfaction of hearing any sounds of pain. He heard the door slam shut behind him, and tried to twist his body around a little, head ringing and vision spinning.

"Try not to move for a second. Here." A voice nearby said in what he absently realised was not the Common Standard, but rather Jhobrasian. He flinched away on sheer instinct, immediately regretting the movement as a flash of pain cleaved through his temples. He groaned, setting his head back on the floor. He felt gentle hands touching his wrists, before the tight handcuffs that had been latched around his arms for two days loosened, and finally fell away. He pulled his arms sluggishly back to the front, rubbing at the raw spots on his wrists.

He felt the gentle hands on him again, this time on his back as he was carefully levered into a sitting position. Blinking hard, Lovino rubbed at his eyes, finally focussing on the space around him. The hands belonged to a slender, olive-skinned girl with immensely frizzy black hair and a wry sort of face. She wasn't conventionally attractive, but she looked tough. She raised an eyebrow at him, brown eyes wide and sparkling with curiosity.

 _"Ste et visu mordes cuses."_ She said to an older man sitting beside her, who was also watching Lovino with interest. He nodded, extending a hand to poke at some of the dark bruising on Lovino's jaw. He flinched backwards again, out of his reach as his brain struggled to place the language that the girl had switched to for the old man. He got the basic gist of what she had said – _he looks half-dead_ – but for whatever reason couldn't place the words' origin. They definitely didn't sound Jhobrasian. The girl turned to him, and switched to yet another language – Common Standard.

"Hello there. As you may have realised, you're onboard a pirate ship. The SS Larcenist, if you specifics, belonging to pirate Captain Barkhado Dirie. Scourge of the East Systems and all that junk." She swept an arm out to indicate the dirty, dark hangar they were in. "These are the _dazzling_ accommodation options. We have the floor, sitting against the wall and _even more floor_."

"Ela, enough." One of the other prisoners piped up. "The guy just got a hard hit to the brain, you really think he wants to hear your floor jokes?" the girl – Ela, apparently – rolled her eyes.

"Back off, Miqez." She turned back to him, gaze settling on the dark wool beanie that was somehow still in place on his head. "But you aren't wrong, I guess. Probably should check for a concussion, huh?" she reached out, fingers brushing against the wool. Lovino shifted backwards again. She paused, scrutinising him. "Whatever is under there can't be that bad, buddy. I mean look at Morell here – he's had Chalydrantis for three months and he's happy as anything!" Lovino glanced over at the man she was pointing at, who was characteristically silver-haired and frowning deeply, and raised an eyebrow. He slid one of his own hands under the wool to touch where he had hit his head. It was a little tender, but certainly didn't feel like a concussion. He felt a slickness on his fingers and winced. So, he hadn't escaped injury after all, it seemed.

The girl was staring at him expectantly, before sighing and sliding forwards on her knees on the metal floor, reaching up with two hands and peeling the beanie from his head herself. She paused, looking shocked as his dark red hair came into view. The old man beside her blinked, but murmured something in his bizarre tongue before shuffling forward as well. He gently ushered the girl aside and probed at the tender spot on Lovino's skull, before pulling a clean cloth from his pocket and pressing it to the bleeding spot, pressing down just enough to make it sting. Lovino winced, but didn't make any other noises. The man made a gesture, and he reached up to hold the cloth against his own head.

 _"Ste et soro man vin coros abstas et sonok sou_. _"_ The man murmured to the girl. She flinched a little.

"I know, morfather." She said, switching back to Common Standard. She peered at Lovino with interest, leaning forwards a little. "I will say, though, I've never seen a real-life Syhvvanian before."

"We're in short supply." Lovino said dryly. The girl grinned.

"Oooh so you _can_ talk, huh?" Lovino made a face, re-adjusting the cloth slightly. The girl smiled. "My name's Eladina Gonzalez. I'm the only person here with a sense of humour, in case you couldn't tell that already." She smiled again. "Have you got a name, or did that little head injury knock it out of your memory?"

Lovino hesitated. He couldn't risk using anything resembling his real name here. The pirates were sharp – they wouldn't miss a detail like that. His hesitation – which quickly moulded into a simple silence – didn't seem to put off the girl. She just shrugged.

"Not the sharing type? That's fine. I'm gonna call you Red, because the hair. Nice to meet you, Red." Lovino blinked, but nodded slowly.

"Alright then. Sounds good enough."

Eladina grinned. "This place is shit. Completely and utterly. Let's see how long it takes to break us, hmm?"

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
30th Jaune_

Gilbert cursed softly, withdrawing his hand from the inner engine and shaking it a little, frowning. He'd been called over to do maintenance work on a ship whose engine kept overheating mid-flight, even though all of the systems designed to keep the engine at a constant temperature were apparently still perfectly functional. He shook his head in bewilderment. The engine was still hot, despite the fact that the ship had been off and stationary for about two days. He had puzzled over it for hours yesterday with other engineers, and had returned today to give it a closer look. Squinting, he leaned down further, while still trying to avoid the inner parts of the machine, some of which were glowing red-hot.

He tapped on the side of one of the other nearby systems – the engine cooler, which, judging by it's outer appearance, was completely functional. Brow furrowed, he tapped at the small row of flashing lights on top, all of which indicated that the system was turned on and operational.

"Can you see anything?" his rebel overseer – Elizabeta – asked, frowning from her place on the ground near the ship. He shook his head.

"The cooling systems are apparently all in perfect working condition, but some parts in here are _glowing_ with heat, so either the original assessment of the cooling systems was wrong, or there's something else seriously wrong with this engine." Elizabeta hummed, and when he tilted his head to look at her, she was frowning.

"Why don't you try giving the cooling systems another look?" she said. "I'm not entirely sure who did the original assessment, but mistakes can always be made, even by the most experienced engineers." Gilbert nodded, propping himself up on his elbows and wiping some sweat from his brow. The sheer size of the ship meant that the engine, in it's entirety, was about three metres high and four across, housed in the front of the ship near the cockpit. Normally, he would have slid right inside to get as close as possible, but the heat made that particular task impossible.

Groaning, he leant forward more, screwing the top of the cooler system open, and immediately felt his confusion disperse as he pried the screen that protected the internal workings off. Engineers and mechanics didn't normally like to tamper with cooling systems – they were very important and, in this type of ship, could be very temperamental at times. The last thing he wanted was to break the machine completely and leave the craft permanently grounded. But just a cursory glance at the coolers made it clear that they were malfunctioning, regardless of what the external lights indicated.

"Liz!" he called as he stretched his arm out to prod gently at some of the wiring. "You were right; the cooling system is fucked."

He heard her sigh. "That makes sense. Can you fix it?" he frowned, evaluating the damage visually.

"Maybe? It looks pretty severe, and the systems in these ships are outdated and frustrating as hell to fix." She huffed.

"Ugh, great. Well, if you feel up to it, please let me know, because I really don't wanna have to ask Kani for help. He's arrogant enough already." Gilbert couldn't hold back his snort of laughter. The head engineer was a little too inflated in terms of ego, that was true. He himself usually feigned having more arrogance than he actually did, if only because it was an easy way to hide what he was thinking.

"I'll see what I can do." He said. "But I make no promises." Elizabeta grinned at him.

"Awesome. Thanks dude." He shrugged in response and ducked to look at the cooling systems. He heard her walk away a little, but ignored her, fiddling with the wires and knobs inside the cooling system mainframe.

"Question." She piped up again after a few minutes of silence. "Do you know what the engineers are gonna use these empty storage shells for? Because some members of the infantry were looking to recycle the parts. All of the munitions makers are keen to get their hands on more scraps for the nail bombs, too." Gilbert listened with half an ear, tinkering with the engine.

"I'm not sure, honestly. You'd have to ask Kani about that." He heard Elizabeta huff again.

"What about this?" he glanced in her direction, too quickly to get a proper look, but shrugged anyway.

"I dunno."

"You didn't even look, rookie." She said, sounding vaguely irritated. Gilbert straightened up a little, twisting around more to look. It was huge chunk of warped steel – once part of a tank – that had been dragged back from an old battlefield to be remade into something new by the resistance's engineers and mechanics. He shrugged again, absently reaching for his screwdriver.

"Again, I don- SHIT." He yelped as he yanked his hand out of the engine and cradled it against his chest. In reaching for the screwdriver – still propped on top of the cooling system – he had accidentally brushed against the red-hot upper engine that he had been avoiding all afternoon. He heard Elizabeta drop the warped sheet of metal with a clang as she rushed over.

"Oh saints, are you alright?" she asked, jogging to the side of the ship. Gilbert hissed through his teeth as he climbed down the ladder propper against the side of the ship, turning his hand over and wincing when he saw the the damage. From his wrist to the knuckles of his pinkie and ring fingers on his right hand, a swath of skin was burned bright red, with raw edges. Blisters, angry and painful, were already starting to rise. Elizabeta winced in sympathy when she saw the damage. "Oooh fuck, that isn't good." She summarised aptly. "Come on, med tent for you."

Gilbert followed her through the camp, weaving through tents as the pain in his hand got worse and worse. He considered himself able to take pain pretty well, but the burn on his hand was like nothing else he'd gotten before, and his eyes were tearing up with the pain. Elizabeta's face was full of sympathy as she ushered him into the cool, shaded tent, looking around quickly.

"What's the issue today, Liz?" the head medic, Kabeeta, said, sounding a little tired as she called to them over the low murmur of noise in the tent. Elizabeta smiled wryly as she saw her, jabbing a finger at Gilbert.

"Pretty bad burn from that overheated engine in Hangar B." she explained, Kabeeta winced in sympathy as she glanced at him.

"Ahh, sorry to hear that. I think Matthew's on duty today, so he should be able to help you with that." Despite the pain, Gilbert's stomach flipped a little. He hadn't spoken to Matthew since that humiliating incident when Matthias had been leaving, and he had blurted out – right in front of the guy – that he _definitely_ didn't have a crush on him, and had immediately disproved his own statement by blushing red as a tomato when the taller man had flirted with him. This wasn't exactly how he had imagined their next conversation going.

Elizabeta, however, knew nothing of his internal dilemma, and grinned in relief.

"Oh, awesome. Come on, Matt'll be able to patch you up just fine." Kabeeta nodded, as if to back up her statement, and pointed them in the direction of the other wing of the med tent. Gilbert tried to calm the nerves in his stomach as Elizabeta pulled the tent flap separating the two wings apart and called out. "Matt! I got a burn for you."

Gilbert's gaze met a pair of bright lilac eyes as Matthew, who had been talking to some poor, bedridden soul, straightened up. The rebel blinked, looking surprised, before his expression shifted into an effortless, warm smile. Gilbert felt some of his anxiety ease.

"Damn, that's not good." Matthew said as he approached and took a look at Gilbert's hand. "It was the overheated engine, you say?" Elizabeta gave the affirmative. Matthew moved closer, gently taking Gilbert's hand, being careful to avoid the aggrieved areas as he examined it closesly.

"Yikes. You aren't the first one to get burned by that insane thing, either. Don't worry, I can fix it up." Matthew released his hand and turned to a stand of drawers, rummaging through them. "Liz, can you fill a bowl with some cold water, please?" Elizabeta jumped to the task, as Gilbert watched Matthew move. The rebel smiled comfortingly at him over his shoulder. "It might take a while to heal, but it should be fine given a few weeks."

Elizabeta approached carefully with the bowl of water. Matthew smiled. "Ahh, great. Thanks Liz. Just submerge your hand in there for a while." Gilbert sat on the edge of an empty bed and did as Matthew said, hissing a little when the burn first made contact with the cool water. Matthew approached and sat on the bed next to Gilbert. "So, how did this happen? Did you just brush your hand against the engine by accident?" Gilbert winced and nodded.

"Uh, yeah, I got distracted for a moment." He said. Elizabeta sighed.

"Correction. _I_ distracted _him_ and he hurt his hand." She shrugged when he looked at her. "What? I should have waited for you to stop working." Gilbert sighed and shot her a look, but didn't bother arguing. He had come to learn how viciously stubborn the Daernic girl was, and didn't want to be on the receiving end of one of her tirades.

"Well, whoever's fault it was, it doesn't really matter." Matthew said, giving them both a chastening look. "It's happened now. The best we can do is try to alleviate the damage." He nodded at Gilbert's hand. "Could you lift your hand out for a second?" he did as Matthew said, expression crumpling in horror when he saw that some of the aggrieved skin was starting to peel off. Matthew hummed and examined it. "Looks like it's a second-degree burn. Should take a few weeks to heal, but it shouldn't give you long-term complications. Gilbert frowned at his hand.

"Is it going to scar?" he asked. Matthew winced, pulling a pair of tweezers from the small stash of medical gear he had beside him and gently examined the burn.

"By the looks of it, probably, but it shouldn't be too bad. Just a mild discolouration." Gilbert wrinkled his nose, but didn't say anything more. Matthew looked over at him again. "Sorry to say it, but this peeling skin is going to have to come off. Liz, can you prepare a sterile bandage for me please? Non-stick, if you would. And some rubbing alcohol, too." Elizabeta nodded and ducked off to do just that as Matthew held Gilbert's hand up a little higher, squinting at it before gently taking a hold of one part of peeling skin with the tweezers and pulling. Gilbert clenched his other hand into a fist as pain lanced across his hand. Matthew winced in sympathy. "Sorry. I'll try to be quick about it."

He did try, Gilbert could see that, but he was still fighting back tears and breathing raggedly within a minute or so. Matthew drew away a little, frowning when he saw Gilbert's other hand. He'd had it clenched in a fist so tightly that his fingernails were starting to cut into the skin. Matthew took ahold of Gilbert's hand and placed it on his own knee.

"Dig your nails into me, not yourself. I think you've acquired enough hand injuries today already, hmm?" Gilbert hesitated, but nodded, trying to force his attention away from the pain in his hand and instead focus on the warmth of Matthew's leg under his hand. Elizabeta ducked back into the room a few moments later, immediately wincing when she saw the look on Gilbert's face as Matthew made quick work of his hand. Gilbert tried not to grip Matthew's leg too hard, but he found himself digging his nails in regardless.

Matthew dropped the tweezers, having finally finished removing all of the peeling skin, and picked up the bottle of rubbing alcohol Elizabeta had brought him. Quick as a flash, he doused the burn in alcohol, and before Gilbert even had time to register the pain, he pressed a sterile bandage to the burn and began wrapping it in gauze. Gilbert dragged in a deep breath, ducking his head a little. He felt Matthew rub the back of his uninjured hand.

"All done now. You did well." He murmured, voice soft and comforting. Gilbert smiled weakly, still wincing as his hand continued to sting. Matthew continued his gentle ministrations on the back of Gilbert's uninjured hand, before letting his hand rest on top. Gilbert felt his face warm a little, but he didn't pull away.

"Thanks for patching me up." He said, letting his smile get a little bigger. Matthew shrugged.

"No worries. Just come to me in about two days or so to change the bandage. It'll probably scar, but it won't be too bad." He nodded, and after a moment of silence, Matthew took his hand off Gilbert's and started to clean up the medical supplies scattered around them.

"Seriously, thanks." Gilbert said sincerely. "It's feeling a lot better now." Matthew smiled warmly as Gilbert continued. "I didn't know that you did medical shifts."

Matthew shrugged. "I come around here on occasion. It's a nice break from all of the combat training and yelling everywhere else. People here are a little calmer, at least most of the time. You should come along and join me sometime."

Gilbert gave a sheepish grin. "I would, but I don't know too much about first aid, or, well, anything medical really." Matthew shrugged.

"I can teach you, if you want. They are useful skills to have and besides, it'll be fun." Gilbert felt his face warm a little. He debated it for a minute. There was no doubt in his mind anymore that he was seriously crushing on Matthew, and there was a part of him that murmured that it was strange to date the brother of one of his closest friends. On the other hand, Alfred himself had violated the weird, unspoken code of dating certain people when he'd gotten together with Arthur, someone who Francis hated more than almost anyone else. If _that_ was acceptable, then this was too. Besides, there was nothing illegal about spending time with someone to learn new skills. He smiled a little.

"Alright, why not?" and at his confirmation, Matthew's face broke into the most radiant smile that Gilbert had ever seen. His positively _melting_ brain was just cognizant enough to form a single thought as he smiled back.

 _Saints I'm screwed_.

* * *

 _31st Jaune_

"All I'm saying is, you could definitely do better, you know."

Alfred shifted uncomfortably, noting the awkward silence in the rest of the room as Francis stared him down.

"Listen, man, I know that you two have a complicated history, but that's not really any of my business-"

"If you're choosing to side with him on the matter, then you're making it your business."

"I don't even know what the _matter_ is!" Alfred exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "And I'm not siding with anyone. He hasn't given me any more details than you have, as a matter of fact."

Francis wrinkled his nose. "You still chose to get involved with him, though." Alfred sighed.

He had thought that ducking by the cell block to visit his friends would make for a nice change of pace from the hustle and bustle of resistance life that had become his new normal. Even though it hadn't been long since he'd returned from the Xi Lan Ey mission, no one had bothered to give him time to rest. Nor had anyone else on the mission had the chance to slow down, either. Matthias and Lukas had been sent off to Fynkn, for saints' sake, and everyone else had dived headfirst back into normal duties. Just yesterday, Gilbert had injured his hand trying to repair a messed-up ship engine. Tino had gone off on some sniper mission, soon to return.

It had made seeing Arthur a lot more difficult, of course, since he was being shuttled around to fulfil his end of the bargain that he'd dealt with the resistance, but they managed. Just getting to sit next to the pirate and feel the Pyndaphian sigh in exasperation before moving to fix his wayward hair or nudge his leg with his own to get his attention was exhilarating. Getting to tumble around in each other's beds and kiss until they felt bruised was another bonus.

He'd had the time of his life being with Arthur, and he knew that his friends would find out about the relationship eventually. Matthew had materialised by his side not even a day after they had gotten back from Xi Lan Ey, screeching "use protection!" in his ear so loudly that he had flinched himself into a stack of barrels. His brother had died of laughter while he had yelled in indignation, before conceding and helping him get up and fix up the pile. He'd continued to make teasing comments for hours until dinner, and fulfilled all of Alfred's worst nightmares when he had spotted Arthur, marched over to him and insisted on talking them through safe sex all throughout dinner. The pirate had taken it in good spirits, though, and seemed to have found the whole thing hilarious, much in contrast to Alfred, who was too embarrassed to so much as _stand_ near Arthur when Matthew was in the vicinity. His brother had approached him later to say, in all seriousness, that he was happy for him, but Alfred couldn't understand why he couldn't have just _started_ with that.

The point was, Alfred wasn't ashamed of being with Arthur, not even remotely, and hadn't even stopped to think about his new boyfriend's complicated history with Francis before going to visit his friends. He'd gone so far as to drag down Mei, Leon and Gilbert to come with him, all three of whom were standing awkwardly behind him. He had hoped that no-one would have anything more than teasing comments about Arthur to hurl in his direction, and for the most part, that was true. But the minute that there was a gap in the conversation, Francis had voiced his disapproval.

It wasn't like Alfred had no idea where Francis was coming from. He knew that the pair had had a huge falling out several years ago, and that it obviously still stung both of them, a _lot_. But neither of them was really forthcoming about the incident itself. All that he had been able to glean so far was that it had something to do with Arthur's job, but even that confused him. The pirate hadn't even _been_ a pirate at the time. In fact, Alfred knew shockingly little about their relationship in general. If they had once been romantically involved, he might have understood all the feelings of betrayal and anger that Francis was giving off, but both of them vehemently denied that they had ever been like that with one another.

He didn't know how they met, or how long they'd known each other before their falling out. Alfred was good at reading people – a lot better than he usually let on, and there were a few things that were a bit telling. In his mind, the two had been very close, even without a romantic element to their relationship. If they had been only casual friends, the deep rift between them wouldn't be such a touchy topic for them both. They had been close, and something had driven them apart, and their initial bond was strong enough that even now they were affected by it. But that raised even more questions; if they had been so close, then what on earth had been strong enough to drive them to hate each other?

He could have speculated all day, but Alfred normally stopped himself from doing that, because it was their business, not his. He had always respected Francis' privacy even when he was bursting to ask questions, and had expected his friend to do the same.

Evidently, he had asked too much.

"I don't think that that's fair, Francis. I've never so much as asked about whatever sort of argument you two are having. I'm my own person with my own life, okay? I don't need to hate someone just because my friends might." Francis glowered at the ground. Alfred exchanged a look with Feliks, who looked immensely uncomfortable. The Pyndaphian shrugged, looking helpless. Alfred sighed again. "I mean, I get why you aren't happy, dude. I'm not going to apologise, but I do understand why you're angry at me. The thing is, I don't even know what he did to offend you so much, so I don't know if I should feel angry on your behalf or anything."

Francis made a sound of disgust and tossed his hair back. "The fact that he's contributing to the sorts of disgusting industries that he does should be reason enough." Alfred frowned.

"I don't mean to burst your bubble, dude, but…we're criminals too. We've done some shady and messed up things, too." Francis shook his head.

"Yes, I know, but even then, there are certain things we haven't touched." Alfred glanced back at Mei and Leon, curious to see how they were taking this. They both seemed to be close to Arthur, after all. Mei looked a little uncomfortable, but it was Leon whose expression surprised Alfred. He looked…tense?

"Seriously, Francis, what has he done that you hate so much?" the blond scowled.

"Oh, only sell slaves and profit off the misery of human beings, among _numerous_ other things." Francis snapped. "Make the criminal argument all you want, Alfred. We've never sold slaves." Alfred sighed.

"Yeah…true…but we've dealt with people who own and sell them, so I don't see what the big-"

"That's different to actually taking part in the process, though." Francis remarked sharply. "He was a slave driver, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember, but he was only doing that to get money to afford his treatment. You know that." Francis folded his arms.

"I don't care what it was for. He still made the active decision to take up that job and do those things. Desperation doesn't factor into it. He supported that damn industry for years and he continues to do so."

Behind Alfred, Leon straightened up. "Shut it, bounty hunter, he does not."

"He does too."

"The fuck he does. You haven't spoken to him regularly for over five years, and yet you claim to know what he does better than us? We're with him almost every day, jackass. I think I would know if he were supporting the slave industry." Francis snorted.

"Right, because he would confide all of his business ventures to a seventeen-year-old. Makes sense." Leon stepped forward, fists clenched and teeth gritted. Alfred blinked. He didn't think that he'd ever seen the young Yanishman this angry.

"You don't know him. He doesn't support slavery."

"Then why did he work as a slave driver when he was younger?"

"He needed medicine because he was fucking _dying_ , and they had the capacity to provide it. How can you say that desperation doesn't play into this situation? He never would have worked there if he hadn't been sick, you know."

"Doubtful. He's morally bankrupt anyway. How would illness affect that?" Leon narrowed his eyes, and stepped closer to the bars.

"He'd lean far more towards freeing slaves than he would selling them, I know that much. Your brief experience with him five years ago doesn't demonstrate who he is as a person."

"In what way, exactly?" Alfred had never heard Francis use so much poison in his voice, _including_ when he spoke to Arthur, and while he was glad that the attention was off him, he couldn't help but be alarmed by how rapidly the hostility seemed to be escalating.

"He had just been diagnosed with an incurable disease with a 100% fatality rate, and probably slapped with an expected survival time of three to six months. I'd be pretty scared and worried if that was me. And I would probably also be desperate enough to do pretty much anything to buy myself a little more time, including sacrificing my morals."

"That isn't an excuse." Francis spat. Leon glared at him.

"Don't talk like you still know him."

"I know him well enough."

"No, you don't, because otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation." Leon snapped back, chest heaving.

"Oh? Where the hell is your proof, then?"

Leon's demeanour changed so suddenly it almost gave Alfred whiplash. The tension drained from his shoulders, the animosity from his expression and his fists unclenched. Suddenly, he was cold and still and strangely lacking in emotion. Alfred felt his stomach turn a little.

"Because, like I said. I know things about him that you don't."

"Do tell."

Some of the anger came back into Leon's expression, and he began to speak.

"I know that he doesn't support the slave industry because, on the only occasion in his life that he ever bought slaves, he immediately set them free, and scammed the auction-holder out of all the money they had earned that day. Those aren't the actions of someone who holds a high opinion of people who sell other people." Francis clenched his jaw briefly.

"Oh, _truly_?"

" _Yes._ That's a fact, and you can't erase it. Your animosity towards him doesn't get rid of the fact that he did that. Your misguided belief that he loves the slave industry doesn't erase the fact that he got banned from auctions on Xexei for the exact reason that he would show up, outbid everyone else for the youngest slaves, and immediately give them back their freedom. And since you're so focused on _facts_ , bounty hunter, do you know how I know this?"

Francis rolled his eyes. "It is because he trusts you oh so _very_ much?" Leon exchanged a look with Mei. The young girl nodded, and Leon drew in a deep breath before stepping closer.

Leon knelt down so that he was level with Francis.

"No. I know this because two of the slaves he freed – the first two, in fact – knew that they wanted to repay him, somehow. He had given them lives that they had never imagined. He got them names and identification numbers and everything they needed to be real people, rather than property. He did it all at a pure economic loss for himself – he hadn't figured out the scamming trick just yet – so he gained nothing from it. Do you know what they did?"

Francis was frowning, not so much angry as unsettled, and shrugged.

"Well, they had no idea at first. They had no money, no information, no sort of worldly treasure to give him in exchange for the gift they'd received. He kept trying to get them into school and give them money for an apartment to rent, but they were determined. It took a while before they realised what they could do. Arthur's a pirate, we all know that. He does heists and daring escapes and massive thefts. He needs talented people to do those things. Even though they didn't have any money for him, these two slaves realised that they were small, and fast, and very agile. They learned fast and easily picked up on how to use weapons. They insisted that they repay their debt with work. Arthur refused to accept it."

Alfred felt like a tight band was constricting his chest. "And?" he asked weakly. Francis was completely silent. Leon looked up at him and shrugged.

"And, Mei and I were too stubborn to take no for an answer, and we've been with him ever since." He turned back to Francis. "Go ahead, bounty hunter. Look me in the eyes and tell me that Arthur Kirkland loves the slave industry. I first got sold for sex and entertainment when I was six years old. I _know_ what a real slaver looks like, and he isn't one. Don't you _dare_ try to claim otherwise."

The entire cell block was silent, half of them gaping at Leon in shock and the other half with brows crinkled in horror. Leon stood silently, folding his arms. His hands were shaking slightly.

"I don't think I deserved such a dedicated defence." A voice behind Alfred said weakly. He spun around to see Arthur standing there, expression full of dismay. "God, Leon, I've dealt with slander before, you didn't need to prostrate yourself for my sake." The teen shrugged, eyes downcast. Francis was staring at Arthur.

"Is that true?" the man asked, voice a little coarse. Arthur winced.

* * *

Mei and Leon had become unbearably precious to Arthur in the short time that he had known them, and they had become so strong and independent that there were days that he struggled not to tear up. But their strength now didn't make him forget how they had met; how they had come into his service in the first place. And it hurt to think about, still.

He sighed, knelt down near the bars of the cell, and started to explain.

* * *

 _General Auction,  
Bonder's District of Gali City, Xexei,  
17th Septombre, 4509CC_

 _(Nearly 3 years ago)_

 _Arthur tossed his head in irritation, swatting absently at a fly buzzing around nearby. He raised an eyebrow at the man beside him, who looked a little overwhelmed to have been tasked with showing a pirate around the Bonder's District. Arthur had already garnered a decent name for himself in just under two years in the piracy business, but he wasn't yet well-known enough for people to recognise him on sight. It was a good combination; he enjoyed being dismissed casually based on appearance, and immediately watching people blanch after he was then introduced._

 _He rubbed at his hair. He'd had a close call last month, and had suffered from a few grey strands speckled among all the blond for several days before he'd managed to buy more malthecs. It was an irritating cycle, but he felt like he was finally getting used to it._

 _Two years and four months, he reminded himself. That was how long he'd stuck around after his initial Chalydrantis diagnosis. He intended to stick around for as long as possible._

 _Arthur hadn't spoken to his family since he'd run off to become a pirate. He'd been living here, on Xexei, shortly before he had done so, and hadn't had too much contact with them regardless, but he had cut himself off completely. The last person he had seen was Colin, who had merely scrunched his nose up when he'd caught sight of his new identification papers._

 _"Kirkland?" his older brother had asked sharply. "So, is our surname not good enough for you now?"_

 _It was, and it always had been, but, as Colin had failed to realise then and had hopefully come to terms with now, whenever a new criminal appeared in the system, the first people that got targeted by the authorities were their families. He had only wanted to spare them the hassle. Besides, they had found cutting him off completely easy enough. He had told only Colin and his wife – Arthur's sister in law – Niamh, about his diagnosis, and they had promised not to rush off and tell the rest of his family before he could break the news to them. He wouldn't be surprised if they had given in and told them by now. It had been two years, which was a long time to keep a secret like that._

 _Arthur tilted his head and surveyed the area around him. It was bustling with people today, for reasons that his useless guide had stammered out to him half an hour ago. Today was the general auction, he said. Slavers from all around the Galaxy would come to show off their wares and try to sell them for as high a price as possible. Countless wooden stages, with marked out areas for bidders to stand, were gathered around. Most had boards standing adjacent to the entrance stating what slavers would be coming by. He ran his gaze absently down the lists. There were some big names there, for sure. His lip curled a little when he noted the name 'Hamide Boushab' on one of them. She was notorious, and not in a good way, for how she treated her slaves._

 _He frowned as he looked around. Some auctions were taking place already, and he winced when he saw the small, huddled figures of the slaves standing up on the wooden platforms. Most looked miserable, resigned or scared. There were the rare few – the brainwashed ones – who looked almost_ proud _to be standing, waiting to be bought. He shook his head. This was a disturbed industry indeed._

 _He walked further, eventually turning around and glaring his guide down until the man scurried off to help someone else. The guy had been far too annoying, far too anxious, for Arthur's tastes, and he was sick of him._

 _He stretched languidly, frowning at the high prices being shouted out by bidders around him. It seemed bizarre, borderline dystopian, that a monetary value was so readily placed on human lives, but he supposed, that could be his foreign upbringing talking. Regardless of his different culture, though, he found the process disparaged, and definitely lacking in humanity._

 _He moved further. Arthur had come here to seek out a certain old contact of his, not necessarily to ogle the wares or scoff at the_ creatures _that would buy another person. He needed to stay focussed._

 _A somewhat familiar face caught his eye, and his footsteps slowed as he scowled._

 _Lord Manquin was an immensely tall man, with rich Metteoan skin and elaborately decorated hair and clothes. Arthur didn't know him personally, but he knew enough about the man that his stomach turned when he saw him. The Lord was known for his inter-planetary dealings, mostly with Reycausian merchants, his trade of silk and satin and, above all, his love of snuff. The man was rich enough to buy slaves as he pleased, and also, living within the Union, well within his rights to then_ kill _those slaves as he pleased._

 _The one redeeming aspect of the situation (if there was one) was that he was extremely picky – he was so particular about what slaves to buy, rape and murder that it sometimes took him years to hunt down a single one worthy of his interest. It disgusted Arthur to no end, but at the very least, there weren't hordes of slaves being murdered for Lord Manquin's pleasure every year._

 _Right now, though, and unfortunately for whoever was on the receiving end, Lord Manquin looked…interested. His eyes were wide and alight with intrigue. Arthur pressed a hand to his mouth. There was obviously some slave who had caught the lord's eye, and knowing what he did of the man's gargantuan wealth and bidding prowess, they would soon belong to him. He went to move past, overhearing what the lord said as he did so._

 _"…Just…perfect. So pretty and slight, but not too skinny. And young…I like them young…yes, number fifteen." Arthur didn't know why his head turned to examine the auction being attended by Manquin, but it did, and he stopped dead in his tracks._

 _The slave who had come under the lord's scrutiny was…a_ kid _. The number 'fifteen' was printed onto a card slung around his neck, and in all honesty, he looked around about that age. He was, as Lord Manquin had disturbingly put, slender and slight. And very young. He was Yanish, Arthur could see that easily from this distance, but it wasn't that that struck Arthur as different about him. Granted, it was strange to see Yanish slaves, but besides that. Where the other slaves were standing with bowed heads and shaking shoulders, the teenager stood tall, head tilted up and eyes scanning the crowd with an almost accusatory gaze. He didn't look happy to be sold, or resigned. He looked angry. A fire burned low in his eyes. Arthur watched him for a moment._

 _"And now, bidding for number fifteen." The auctioneer announced. Arthur saw Lord Manquin's mouth twist into a grin._

 _He didn't know why he marched over to the entrance, or tossed the entrance fee at the operator, or grabbed a paddle, but the predatory look in Manquin's gaze made his stomach turn. The kid stepped forwards, expression stony._

 _"As you can see, this specimen is on the young side!" the auctioneer winked. Disgusting. "Fifteen years of age, by our estimations. Yanish, so a rare treat for those of you who like Kyrs people! Slender frame and good bone structure. Pretty good health history, and he has been trained!" That made Arthur's stomach turn even more. After all, there was only one way to train a sex slave._

 _"We'll start bids at 80,000 marks!" the man exclaimed. About thirty paddles shot into the air. The auctioneer grinned, and behind him, the man who must be the slaver, also smiled darkly._

 _"How about 100,000? 100,000 marks for number fifteen?" Arthur watched as the paddles diminished slowly. Yet every time, without fail, Lord Manquin lifted his high and outbid the others. Arthur felt sick, watching the price climb and the number of bidders drop. The fire burning in the teenager's eyes was faltering. He obviously recognised Lord Manquin. And, try as he might not to show it, he was obviously scared._

 _"How about one million? One million marks? Anyone?" Manquin stuck his paddle up eagerly, smiling darkly when no-one else moved to challenge him._

 _"I see bidder 73 going for one million marks. Anyone else? Going once? Going twi-"_

 _Arthur made his decision in a split second and stuck his paddle in the air. The auctioneer turned his eyes on him. "Oh! Bidder 104! What claim will you make?"_

 _"1.1 million." He said, making eye contact with Manquin as he said it._

 _"1.2 million." Manquin shot back, looking a little frazzled. Arthur stared him down. He looked between Manquin, and the boy, whose eyes were on him now, almost frantic. To him, Arthur was just another slave-owner, but he wasn't immediately recognisable as a slave-owner who killed their slaves for fun. In that boy's eyes, he was somehow a beacon of hope. A memory nudged at him, of someone else who once had looked at him like he was their saviour, like he had rescued them from desolation and given them hope._

 _Go away, Francis. He thought, before sticking his paddle up again._

 _"1.4." Arthur choked out. He would need to get a loan from Barkhado, at this rate. He did have the money to pay, but it would almost completely clean him out. Lord Manquin was staring at him, but the lord clenched his fists and lowered his paddle._

 _"Number fifteen, for 1.4 million marks? Going once? Going twice?" the auctioneer paused, glancing at Lord Manquin again before slamming the gavel down. "Sold! To bidder 104 for 1.4 million marks!" the slaver was grinning unapologetically. The boy on stage looked a little relieved, but some of his earlier standoffishness had come back. The slaver marched over to him and dragged the teen off the stage. Arthur watched as Lord Manquin gave him a dirty look and marched out of the auction, looking deeply disgruntled._

 _Arthur moved closer to the side of the room as the auction continued. He had no idea what had come over him, but he was now the owner of a slave, it seemed. It sat heavy and foul in his stomach. Helping transport slaves had been bad enough. Now he_ owned _one? He sighed, watching as the procession continued. His attention was piqued again, however, when a small girl was pulled across the stage._

 _"Number forty-six! Twelve years old, female, and the third of our Yanish wares! Pretty, agile, and, for those interested, also a virgin!" the girl flinched at that statement, biting her lip. She looked like she was trying not to cry. He examined her. She looked badly underfed. Her hair was immensely long, hanging past her waist. She was little more than a child. Arthur examined the leaflet he had plucked from the entrance, which had brief descriptions of all the slaves being sold. He skimmed the whole list. She was the youngest one being sold. The second youngest was the one that Arthur now officially owned._

 _He still remembered what life had been like when he was twelve. He had developed a fascination with frogs and his older brothers had entertained his interest by going with him down to the river to look for them and catch tadpoles. His mother had mussed his hair up every day before he ran off to school, and lectured him about wearing warm clothes when winter came around. It was almost winter here, too. That girl didn't look very warm._

 _His arm moved of it's own accord, and his mouth made words come out, too, he was pretty sure of that as well. By the time the auctioneer called that the auction had come to a close, Arthur was the owner of two slaves, one worth 1.4 million marks, and the other 900,000. He felt oddly numb. He checked over his bank balance as he moved to the stage, where they had stated he could officially buy his wares. He had enough, just, for both of them. He might have to sacrifice a fortnight of malthecs or quickly do another heist, but he could afford them both._

 _Arthur paid silently. The boy and girl were standing so close together that they might as well as been one person. Judging by the way they were clinging to each other, they knew one another. He bit his lip as he was handed all of the documentation and paperwork that the slaver had on them, and tried his hardest not to flinch away when the slaver clapped him on the back, and thanked him for his business._

 _Arthur glanced at the two slaves. He had been handed a chain that they were both attached to. They looked uncertain, and a little scared, but they followed him anyway. They didn't really have a choice._

 _His mind raced as he struggled to think of somewhere that he could take them. Somewhere with food and warm beds. He had been living out of his ship for the last few months, alone except for the occasions where Roderich chose to come along with him. He didn't have the supplies to keep these kids happy and healthy. He cursed internally. What had he been thinking? Buying two slaves for a combined value of over 2 million marks, just because he felt sorry for them. He thought that he had quashed the lingering softness inside him, but evidently not._

 _He turned to glance at them again. The girl was shuddering with cold. He paused, pulling his heavy black coat off and draping it over her shoulders. She jerked away in surprise, looking at him in bewilderment. Arthur frowned, but kept walking. They followed, after a brief pause._

 _He ended up outside a three-star travel lodge that looked decent enough to house two people for the night. He asked for a room quietly. The woman didn't so much as blink at the two slaves. Living on Xexei, which was well known as the Kyrs System's slave capital, had probably desensitised her. The room they had been given was small, but clean and warm. He ushered the two slaves inside and cranked up the heater. They were both shaking slighty, and he pretended to not realise that it wasn't from cold._

 _"My name is Arthur." He said quietly, after a moment of complete silence. "…Do you two have names, at all?" they both stared at him, like they couldn't comprehend what he was saying. The boy, slowly, shook his head. Arthur tried to ignore the sharp twisting in his stomach as pity surged through him. "…right. Okay then. Well," he gave them both a quick once-over. "I'm going out to buy a few things. Just…stay here." Scooping the key up off the side-table he had dumped it on, he stepped out the door and closed it firmly behind him._

 _Two hours in Xexei's shopping district left him with bags of clothes in what he roughly approximated to be the boy and girl's sizes, in addition to some food. He himself hadn't eaten in about three days, so he snacked on the way back. Maybe that was why he had recklessly gone and bought them. He was probably delirious from hunger. Arthur thought about the situation more clearly as he walked back to the hotel. He didn't intend on having slaves, for any reason. His only objective in buying them had been to save the boy from being killed by Manquin, and to save the girl from the pedophiles who had undoubtedly been among those bidding for her, so he supposed that the only other mode of action was to set them free. There was no law against it; since he now owned them, he could do what he wanted, and that included giving them citizen status._

 _Arthur browsed absently through sites about freeing slaves as he did so. There was a government office that dealt with manumission, and according to the information about the offices, it was open all week. He would give them tomorrow to sleep and eat, and rest up a little, and then take them both to get new identities._

 _He only hoped that they would cooperate with him._

* * *

 _Arthur didn't think that clothing had ever been met with so much open surprise and wariness before. Though the girl immediately moved to investigate the things that Arthur pulled from the bags, the boy hung back, looking conflicted. The girl scooped up a white shirt with long sleeves, pressing it to her face before looking up at Arthur._

 _"Is…this…" she trailed off, watching him warily and only continuing when he motioned for her to do so. "For…me?" he nodded, kneeling down to pull the clothes out of their bags._

 _"Yes." He said. "I tried to get things in your size, but…" he frowned. "They might be a little big." She nodded, picking up a pair of black pants and simple slippers. She gave him another look, as if asking if those choices were okay. He nodded, heart breaking a little more as she beamed in joy. The boy slunk forwards slowly, picking up a few pieces of clothing and looking over them, almost seeming puzzled. Arthur frowned a little._

 _"They're…long." The boy remarked, turning the clothes over. Arthur's frown deepened._

 _"Of course they are. It's winter." The boy looked at him, still confused._

 _"You don't want to display us?" he asked sharply. Arthur blanched._

 _"No." he said firmly. "I want you two to be clean and warm." He nodded in the direction of the bathroom. "If you want, you can both have a shower and get dressed." The girl smiled again, but the boy was frowning._

 _"'If we want'?" he asked. "Why are you asking us? You tell us what to do." Arthur blinked._

 _"Because I'm not going to force you to do something you don't want to do. So yes,_ if you want _, you can go and shower and get dressed." The boy stared at him, hugging the bundle of clothes that he had chosen into his chest and nodding a little. The girl ducked into the bathroom._

 _Arthur pulled up his cell and also extracted the pile of documents that the slaver had handed him on the two. It should be fairly easy to make identification documents for them. He also opened up a site on names. It had millions upon millions of entries, but he could at least give the pair an idea. The two teens both showered and emerged looking much cleaner, wearing the new clothes Arthur had gotten them. He was right – the clothes on the girl were too big, but the boy's fit alright._

 _He nodded at them both as they moved to sit on the one bed in the room. He saw them exchange a look in his peripheral vision, but neither said anything. He paused and set his cell down, biting his lip as he looked over them both._

 _"Is there anything that the two of you want?" the boy stiffened._

 _"In what context?" he asked defensively. Arthur blinked._

 _"In…any context? I mean, are you hungry? Cold? Do you want me to buy anything else for you?" the boy, once again, looked completely perplexed by Arthur's words, but fell silent. The girl looked like she wanted to say something, but stayed silent. "Girl, what is it? I can tell that you want to say something." She bit her lip._

 _"It's nothing." She said. Her voice was so quiet that Arthur had to strain to hear it. He sighed. These two were a piece of work._

 _"I promise, whatever it is, I won't get offended. Just tell me." The girl hesitated again, fiddling with her long hair._

 _"I…I would like to cut my hair." She said, voice small. "I don't like having it long like this. Master Kimo made me grow it out." Arthur watched her a moment, then shrugged and stood._

 _"Alright then." He approached her and gathered her (ridiculously) long hair in one hand, then extracted a knife from his belt with the other. He measured it so about the bottom of her jaw, and sliced it off. The girl jerked in surprise as he absently shook out the bottom of it in an attempt to root out loose strands of hair. "There." He said as he stood, tossing the hair in the rubbish before turning to face her and evaluate his work. "I agree. That's much better. I can take you to get it cut properly tomorrow, if you want, but that'll do for now." The girl brushed her fingers along the somewhat uneven ends of her hair, expression wide with shock._

 _Arthur sighed, returning to his chair before crossing his legs. He scooped up his cell, found the site with names that he had been looking through, and handed it to the boy. "I'll be honest with you. I never intended to buy any slaves. Frankly, the whole industry is disturbing. I felt sorry for you both, and I had the money to stop you from getting sold to a snuffer and a pedophile, respectively. I don't want slaves, so I'll take you to the manumission office tomorrow and get you new identities." The boy had frozen as Arthur indicated the cell. "You can find a name that you like on there. I don't really care." They were both gawking at him by the time he was done._

 _"You…" the boy trailed off. "You're setting us…free?" Arthur nodded._

 _"Well, I have no use for either of you, so why not?" the pair still stared at him, the girl raising her hands to her face in shock. He shrugged, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "It's not a big deal." The boy made a spluttering noise._

 _"I know how much money you paid for me. That kind of money doesn't fall from trees. You're saying that you paid that much just to let us go?" Arthur tilted his head to the side._

 _"I'm a pirate, I can steal that amount back in a month or two. If you would prefer that I sell you back to the slavers, I will." The boy fell silent. Arthur turned away, as the two quietly turned to the cell. There was silence for a few moments, before the girl spoke up._

 _"Umm, sir…" he looked over at her. She flushed and looked away. "We…we aren't very good readers, is all." Arthur blinked, cursing himself mentally as he moved over to them and took the cell._

 _"Would you like me to read them out?" he asked. They both nodded slowly._

 _He sat there for a few hours with them, reading out names and writing down the ones that they seemed to like a lot. He ordered some food to be sent up to the room and watched silently as they ate hungrily. They seemed a little more relaxed now, if only marginally. Arthur surveyed the room as they finished up their food. The bed could hold two easily, but he didn't want to share a bed with them. It crossed a line he never wanted to cross with these two. Resigning himself to a less than comfortable night, he spread some spare blankets out on the floor and lay down. They both paused, staring at him for a moment before slowly moving to keep eating._

 _He booked in an appointment at the manumission office as the two cleaned up after themselves and – still hesitating as if they would be in trouble – climbed under the covers of the bed._

 _"Have you two decided on any names?" Arthur dared to ask. There was silence before the girl stuck her head over the edge of the bed._

 _"Umm." She blushed. "I liked the third name you wrote down. Mei?" he nodded. It suited her. He looked at the boy._

 _"I like it. What about you?" the boy was silent for a long moment._

 _"…Leon." He answered finally. "I like Leon." Arthur nodded._

 _"Alright then. We'll get going early, so try to get some sleep." He turned over, on his side, and let his exhaustion carry him into a deep sleep. He was too heavy a sleeper to hear the two discussing the day, and far too unconscious to ever feel the gentle touch of the girl – now Mei – and the boy – now Leon – on his shoulder as they murmured endless thanks._

* * *

The whole room was silent, trying to comprehend everything that the pirate had just told them. Leon and Mei's expressions were neutral, but everyone could see the warmth in their eyes as they looked at their captain.

Arthur sighed, and looked at Francis again.

"Listen, Francis. I don't care if you have a grudge against me. I really don't. You can take as much animosity out on me as you want. But don't you dare go after them. Your anger is directed at me, so don't go ahead and start making collateral. Mei has nothing to do with this, neither does Leon, and Alfred most certainly doesn't either. So, keep your gripes either to yourself or bring them to me."

And with that, Arthur stood and turned on his heel, marching out of the cell block with his faithful underlings right behind him.


	19. All Our Scrapes and Scars

**Hello! This is the chapter that gave me complete and utter hell for about 3 weeks, so y'all should be impressed that you're even reading this right now :D**

 **Anyway~**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lovino was imprisoned in the hold of Barkhado Dirie's ship with other victims of hers. He met a prisoner named Eladina.**  
 **\- Gilbert suffered burns to his hand while repairing a ship and continued to be a Big Gay Disaster™ whenever Matthew is in the vicinity.**  
 **\- After lashing out at Alfred about dating Arthur, Francis and the others learnt that Mei and Leon were, in fact, slaves who were sold and freed by Arthur so they could have a better life.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- The usual cursing and foul language, references and descriptions of violence, self-inducing vomiting (unrelated to eating disorders), discussion about murder**

 **Please review! I love y'all!**

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
1st Juillat_

Matthias ducked under Ansel's clumsy swing, sighing a little as he easily lashed upwards with his foot and knocked the smaller man on his back. Ansel wheezed out a breath.

"Ugh, why did I have to be paired with you?" he groaned as Matthias murmured an apology and helped him to his feet. Ansel brushed himself off, wincing a little as he rubbed over what were obviously sensitive spots. The shorter man sighed, putting his hands on his hips and squinting around at the other pairs of fighting recruits. Matthias knew that they should probably keep going; Kolden wanted them to train as intensively as possible, since their time was going to be cut short, but he also took the opportunity to look around at how everyone else was going.

Riya Kristoff's assertion that most people here would be terrible fighters had been correct. Matthias had grown up in a safe area, but moving to a crime cess-pool like Reycass had made combat skills a bare necessity for survival, and it shocked him that, even in an occupied, active warzone like Fynkn, there were people who still didn't know how to throw a proper punch. He supposed that such skills weren't really necessary if you kept your head down and didn't tangle with either the Union or the rebels, but it was still somewhat jarring.

But where the general populace of Block D seemed to fall short in terms of combat ability, there were a few that stood out.

Matthias himself seemed to be one of the best fighters in the block, leading more of his friends in Block A to lament that he wasn't training with them instead, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that he wasn't the only one who knew how to fight. Ansel himself was alright, but he lacked the general bodily strength to overpower Matthias, and given that Matthias was a good half-foot taller than him, that made sense.

Riya Kristoff, who had become one of his frequent dinner-buddies sheerly through their shared proximity to Bondevik, was an incredible fighter. She showed raw strength and skill, and he had watched her slam three people to the ground from a distance just this morning. The only thing holding her back was her tendency to never shed the long, olive green coat they all wore. Everyone else took the first opportunity to toss it off to give them more movement and help them cool down. The temperatures today were milder than they'd been all week; only -3°C as opposed to the usual -10 or even -15°C, so Matthias wasn't as afraid of frostbite as he was usually. Almost everyone had shed the drab coats, but Kristoff was stubbornly keeping hers on. He could sweat beading on her brow, even at the large distance he was at, and winced in sympathy.

There were two others in Block D that weren't bad fighters too; Calla Modark and Hanne Shumser. They were both vicious and seemed, like him, a lot more suited for Block A than D. When he had asked Calla why they were in Block D, they had simply shrugged and responded.

"I'd rather not be surrounded by the loud brawlers that make up Block A." He had gotten a bit of a stink-eye from them at that point. "I know you get along well with them, but you aren't like most of the people there. You value things other than punching and kicking." Matthias had not been prepared to get a sudden, deep observation from a random Fynknian rebel, but Calla hadn't acted like it was anything out of the normal for them to do. Matthias had gotten a gentle pat on the shoulder, and the rebel had wandered off to find Hanne. As far he knew, they were fairly good friends.

Hanne was a remarkably strong woman who rivalled him in height and sheer dumb luck. They got along very well, and it delighted Matthias to no end to watch her toss grown men around like ragdolls. She was widely considered one of the best assets of Block D, and from what Matthias had heard, he was too. It wasn't hard to distinguish who actually knew what they were doing from those who were only learning. Close to 80% of Block D fell into the latter category, and it was a little disappointing to see.

But if the majority of Fynkn's future soldiers were lacking in basic strength and skills, their prince more than made up for their deficits.

Matthias didn't know what he expected from Lukas Bondevik, really. They had been here for almost two weeks, and the guy managed to surprise him constantly. The kid was a little shorter than average – 5'8'' to what seemed to be an average 5'10'' here – and lined with muscle despite still technically being underweight. He was wickedly intelligent and a little intimidating and somewhat offputting most of the time. He was more capable than he looked, and despite having the charisma of a rock, seemed to be charming enough to attract the most reticent person in the Block into being his friend. He was witty and sarcastic and endlessly fun to annoy, but the one thing he had never really struck Matthias as was a physical force to be reckoned with.

He was fast, and agile, and definitely stronger than most people here. But Matthias had never really viewed him as being _toss-people-twice-his-height-and-weight-over-his-shoulder-without-breaking-a-sweat_ strong. The guy seemed to have enough integrity to not use his abilities to help him, too, so it was his raw strength shining through when he fought people.

For the brackets, they had been allocated an hour to fight four people each, with everyone split up into groups of five to cycle through, with one person sitting out as two other pairs fought. The group that Bondevik was in were all finished, and sitting quietly on the sidelines, with everyone but the prince himself nursing bruises or sprains. The entire field of fighters had paused in their tracks to watch in silent shock and awe as the feisty teen had taken down Elin Markus, better known as 'Block D's giant' – primarily for the fact that he was 6'8'' and weighed about double what Bondevik did.

It had been unsettling, sure, to watch someone so small and seemingly unassuming take down someone so much larger than them with what almost looked like minimal effort, but it had also been impressive as hell. Elin Markus might not have been an excellent fighter, but his sheer size normally put people off well enough. A part of Matthias was dying to fight Bondevik now, not for any desire to do the kid harm, but definitely to see if he could come close to overtaking the Fynknian.

The takedown had had other effects, too, though. Some of the looks aimed at the prince now held wariness, and in some cases, budding hostility. There were a lot of people who wanted to make something of themselves, and anyone better than them posed a threat. Even though he had definitely caught the attention of Sergeant Kolden like he wanted, it looked like Bondevik was also making enemies for himself. Matthias shook his head a little. As the person tasked with guarding the kid, any enemies he made automatically would mean trouble for Matthias as well. It certainly didn't bode well that people within the rebels themselves seemed to be starting to dislike him.

Matthias grumbled to himself as he lined himself back up against Ansel and prepared to strike again. The smaller man groaned but did the same. Focussing on the prince would hardly help him right now. He countered as Ansel attempted to lunge once more, easily fending the smaller man off.

Thankfully for Ansel's already bruised body (and Matthias' waning patience), Kolden called them all over after a few more minutes, sighing as he ran a hand across his scruffy, unshaved chin. Matthias couldn't help but feel the smallest pang of sympathy for the guy. He was trying to shove five weeks' worth of training down their throats in three, and most of the recruits had been untalented already, even without the burden of a smaller time to train. He couldn't imagine that the Sergeant was having an easy time. He glanced around as they all assembled into messy but serviceable lines. Bondevik had his head tilted slightly, lending an ear to Riya Kristoff, who seemed to be talking to him. He raised an eyebrow. Those two had certainly started to get along well. They did have similar personalities, he supposed, so it only made sense.

"Alright, listen carefully, because I'm about to break down what's gonna happen in the next two and a half weeks. Now, while you guys have been training, we've been analysing and judging you based on your skills and general capability in a field setting. Very recently, several guerrilla squads were hit hard; they lost a few members. If you're aiming to be put in one of those, then you're gonna be competing with all of Block A for the honour, so don't get your hopes up." He cleared his throat, and Matthias could have sworn that the sergeant eyed Bondevik and Kristoff for a moment before continuing.

"Now, our observations of you are important. We're gonna be ranking you guys in terms of your raw ability and how useful you'll be in given situations. All sorts of things, from teamwork skills to individual combat capabilities, are going to be assessed. We'll have some officials coming in from other bases to help out with that, so don't worry about not getting watched closely enough. In a week's time, you will be sorted according to whatever rankings we assign you and paired up with people who have roughly the same level of skill as you. As part of your combat training, you'll fight each person, and your ranking will be adjusted accordingly after each fight. At the end of your newly shortened training period, your final rankings will be used to determine where you'll go." He stared at them all, expression severe. "This is important, so put your all in, Block D. Don't disappoint me. Dismissed."

Matthias sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck before wearily trooping away, back towards the barracks. He didn't have much to do other than sit around on his bed, really. It was kinda sad that his life had already become so routine. Glancing around, he raised an eyebrow when he saw Bondevik and Kristoff parting, with the prince he was tasked with caring for looking a little despondent. Frowning, he wandered over to him.

"What's up with you?" he asked once he was within the Fynknian's earshot. Bondevik looked up, expression hardly easing when he saw Matthias.

"Nothing." He muttered, picking at some balls of lint clinging to the edges of his wool gloves. Matthias hesitated. He really should just walk back to the barracks and let Bondevik brood as he pleased, but part of him also knew that, if he let the kid stew, his mood would only get worse.

"Oh, come on. You wouldn't look so sour if nothing was wrong. I mean, you _normally_ look displeased with everyone and everything around you, but usually not to this extent." Bondevik looked up, scowling.

"Can't you just piss off?" Matthias stuck his hands in his pockets, shaking his head with a carefree grin on his face.

"Nope. Matthias the Therapist only appears once in a blue moon. Take advantage of him while you can." Bondevik raised an eyebrow, but sighed after a very long moment.

"Everyone is going to be trying their hardest to get into those guerrilla squads, _especially_ those morons in Block A. They spend all of their time doing combat training, unlike us, so it's unlikely that, up against some of them, I'd be able to win and be put in a squad like I want." Matthias hummed.

"I mean, I get where your concerns are coming from, man, really, I do. But…honestly? Even if you aren't doing combat training constantly, you're probably a great deal better at fighting than most of them are, anyway. I mean, I haven't seen anyone from Block A shoulder-flip Elin Markus in one move, so." Matthias surprised himself with his words. He hadn't meant to compliment the prince so much, but had just been speaking honestly. Even Bondevik looked a little taken off-guard. Matthias threw a grin back onto his face. "What? Surprised that I can actually be nice?"

Bondevik narrowed his eyes slightly, but the rest of his expression indicated good humour. "No, just surprised that you didn't somehow turn it into a compliment for yourself. But thank you, anyway." Matthias grinned and rested his hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

"For real, don't worry about it. You'll do fine." Bondevik nodded again, and Matthias removed his hand after a moment.

"I hope so. Thanks, Matthias." He nodded and grinned.

"Eh, you're welcome. Anyway, I'm gonna go and nap." Bondevik's mouth quirked sideways just slightly, in what might have been a shadow of a grin. Matthias blinked in surprise. He had never seen the prince appear anything but stoic and mildly unimpressed. The change suited him.

"That sounds like a solid plan." Bondevik said, folding his arms and scuffing his boot-tip in the snow. "I might jump on that bandwagon a little later, in all honesty." Matthias nodded, grinning, and raised a hand in farewell as he wandered back towards the barracks.

It took him a solid five minutes to realise that Bondevik had actually referred to him by his first name during that exchange, and that realisation stopped him right in his tracks, blinking in utter surprise, as his brain struggled to process him being called anything other than 'Køhler' or 'moron'. Shooting a look over his shoulder to see if Bondevik was still standing in the courtyard yielded nothing, though. The prince was long gone.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
1st Juillat_

"I still can't believe that we share a birthday." Matthew commented as he bit into another sugar-dusted cake. Leon smiled as he reached for another one himself, shrugging.

"I mean, technically speaking, I don't remember when my actual birthday was, so I just chose this date randomly." Matthew shrugged, looking unbothered.

"Eh, doesn't matter, we're birthday buddies for life now. You can never escape." Leon rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

Truth be told, he liked Matthew quite a lot. The guy had seemed completely unbothered when he had found out that Leon and Mei used to be slaves, and hadn't treated them any differently than he had before he knew. He also got along quite well with their captain, which was a trait he always appreciated in someone. The guy was intelligent, and capable, and, had he not had as strong a moral compass as he did, Leon thought he would have made a fine pirate.

Mei huffed. "I don't think I've ever had a birthday buddy, in all honesty." Matthew looked over at her curiously.

"Oh? When's your birthday?" she shrugged.

"I chose the 25th of Octava." She said simply. Matthew frowned, obviously thinking.

"Hmm. I mean, I think Ines Jakolin's birthday might be then, too? I'm not sure, though. Either then or Jaune." Mei raised an eyebrow.

"That's not helpful."

"Shut up, I'm trying."

Leon grinned, shoving another small cake in his mouth to stifle a laugh. They had gotten into the kitchen's stores – with permission and help from Tino, who was on duty that day – and taken a whole stash of the small sweets. It had originally been just him, Mei and Matthew, who had been disproportionately excited when Mei had let slip that it was his birthday, but they had quickly found themselves joined in the endeavour by Arthur, Alfred, Gilbert and Elizabeta. They, along with Tino, were currently all holed up in a disused storage container, seated on blankets with only light from rustic old lanterns to guide their movements. It was oddly comforting, and rather pleasant.

A low, metallic thud rang out as someone knocked on the outside of the shed. Elizabeta, who was seated closest to the door, jumped a little, and immediately punched Gilbert when he snickered at her for being startled. She clambered to her feet and cautiously opened the door, exclaiming in delight before opening the door wider, revealing two women standing there, both grinning.

There was a chorus of greetings and smiles as the two – Tori, who Leon still remembered from when she'd been part of the bounty hunters' crew and a shorter, younger Fynknian girl – navigated their way around the lanterns and shuffled around looking for seats. The Fynknian girl tiptoed over to Matthew and hugged him, shoving a package into his face.

"I had no idea what to get you so please don't judge me." Matthew laughed.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Thank you, Emilia." The girl smiled, before glancing around the group and huffing.

"Really? None of you can manage to make room?" she shook her head, looking irritated. Leon, noting the space next to him, shuffled over a little and patted the ground.

"There's some space here." He said. She looked up, smiling slightly before moving to sit down next to him.

"Thanks." She said, shooting an accusatory look around at the others seated in the circle. "At least _someone_ here is friendly." Leon bit back more laughter as the others rolled their eyes and began to contest her statement. The Fynknian rolled her eyes right back at them and turned to him. "Now, I don't think that we've actually met before." Leon blinked, but then smiled wryly and nodded.

"Oh, that's true. I'm Leon Zhang." She nodded, smiling, extending a hand for him to shake.

"Emilia Bondevik." Leon nodded.

"Ahh. I've met your brother Lukas. I went on the Xi Lan Ey mission with him." Emilia nodded, grinning.

"Oh, you poor thing." Leon laughed, sudden and surprised.

"Ahh, it wasn't that bad." He said. "He's a hell of a fighter, I'll tell you that." An image of a purpled, frozen face, eyes blown wide in surprise in pain and an extended hand, grasping a gun coated in frost, flashed through his mind. Emilia nodded.

"Well, I can't say that I'm up to the same standard, though I'm trying to be." She shrugged. "That's why I'm stuck here, I suppose." Leon nodded, absently noting her slight figure.

"Well, if it helps at all, you look far more suited to knives than big guns or other weapons. If you want to improve, you should focus on that." Emilia hummed, glancing at him with her brow furrowed in curiosity.

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

 _Kirkos District,  
Bibesti, Rela,  
2nd Juillat_

Feliciano made a face as he stepped around yet another body, already deep in the clutches of decomposition. He made sure to breathe solely through his mouth, not trusting himself to smell the rot and not be sick. He glanced to the right, where Inkar was walking beside him, looking around with a mildly sorrowful expression. He knew that these were her people; citizens that she had sworn an oath to protect and guard, but he found himself not feeling as sorry for her as he probably should. She could have been protecting these people instead of hunting him and Lovino down, but she had made her choice.

He cast his eyes upwards, where until a few days ago a large ship had hung in the sky, casting a shadow over the sections that it had been pillaging. He sighed. The Reign had ended about four days ago, but the city had only just started to clean up the aftermath. Hospitals had been overwhelmed with victims of rape and violence in the last week, so the main goal for many people had been lending aid and support. While mourning for individual victims was being conducted in the richer districts of the city, in places like Szwicza and Kirkos, mass graves were being prepped for the unknown and unloved bodies littered in the streets and holed up in thoroughly looted apartments. Feliciano made a face. He could certainly see how resentment of the rich and powerful came about so easily.

He cast a sideways look at Inkar again.

"Is there any possible way of us finding out where the pirates are headed?" he asked. She glanced over at him. She had already shared as much as she knew about the pirate groups attacking the city with him. According to her, they had two major possibilities in terms of who had actually kidnapped Lovino; Cahya Maharani or Barkhado Dirie. They both boasted impressive forces of underlings and a great deal of infamy – Feliciano had heard of both of them and wasn't very happy about that fact.

Cahya Maharani was a Lysi pirate with a chip on her shoulder to rival the Union's. Her crew was composed of some of the most foul, reckless and downright _criminal_ people that the systems had ever seen. Maharani herself was apparently a reasonable person, if a little unsettling. She had laid waste to the Hemmi, Valgard and Szwicza districts during the Reign, so it was entirely possible that she or a member of her crew was responsible for taking Lovino. Of course, they couldn't really say for certain. Maharani's crew all wore distinctive gold lapel pins to identify them. Neither Feliciano nor Inkar had gotten a good enough look at the pirates that night to see if they had them on.

Their other option was Barkhado Dirie. She was from the Far Reaches, and had connections with numerous other big-name pirates. Kirkland, Santos, Kelly…the list was endless. She was also known for her penchant to pluck people from the streets and not return them. Dirie's connections to the slaving industry, as a result, were also very well known. Her crew was just as formidable as Maharani's, in all honesty. It turned his stomach to think of Lovino being in the grasps of either of them.

"Where we go next depends on which one we pin our bets on." Inkar responded, frowning thoughtfully. "Let's face it, we have no way of knowing which one actually took your brother, so we have to consider which one to persue. It's a 50-50 chance." Feliciano drew in a deep breath. Even with such even chances, he didn't want to risk persuing the wrong person.

"Is there no way that we can find both of them?" he pleaded. Inkar looked over at him, pausing and sighing.

"Well…I make no promises, but Dirie is so well-known and audacious that tracking her down is easy. Maharani is still in the city right now, of that I'm certain, but she's slippery as all hell. If we give her the chance to get away, she will." Feliciano nodded, considering it.

"Well, what would you recommend, then?"

Inkar hummed. "We can go after Maharani first. She'll be lurking around the city somewhere. If we ask the right people the right questions, we should be able to find her easily enough. If she doesn't have him, we go after Dirie. She's more high-profile, and rarely shies from the spotlight. It would be a lot easier to find her." He nodded.

"Alright then. We'll look for Maharani first. Where do we start?"

She made eye contact with him. "The Citadel. We always monitor the streets during the Reign. If anyone can help us find her and her crew, it's my brothers and sisters in arms." He hesitated. He was wary enough about trusting Inkar, but going into the Citadel, the literal home of Bibesti's _Zephyrak_ , was an even less appealing prospect.

If things went south, he could always fight his way out, he supposed. Feliciano nodded slowly.

"Fine, we'll go to your Citadel." Inkar paused.

"I know you don't trust me, Feliciano, and frankly you have no reason to, but I am trying to make amends here. I wouldn't jeopardise that." He stared at her, keeping his expression flat and empty, like his brother did when talking his way through an unpleasant situation.

"I know. If you don't mind, we should get going. I want my brother back as soon as possible."

Inkar frowned a little, mouth turning down at the corners, but nodded and indicated a narrow alley.

"I'll lead the way."

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
3rd Juillat_

 _There was screaming and blood and he wanted to be sick because it was all so horrible and he didn't know why this was happening but then someone was looking right at him it was one of them they had a knife no no no please no just go away please go away leave me alone-_

Lukas jerked awake sharply, breath leaving him in a rush as his hands shook and he struggled to draw some much-needed oxygen into his lungs. He sat up in bed, careful to avoid striking his head on the ceiling above him, wrapping his arms around himself as he ran a trembling hand down his face.

Damn it.

He had thought, foolishly, that he had begun to grasp the nightmares, to move past them and hopefully start to avoid them altogether. The last two nights of peaceful sleep had been too good to be permanent, and he should have known it. He withdrew his hand from his neck only a moment after resting it there, wrinkling his nose at the feel of sweat slick on his skin. His eyes were burning slightly, and he rubbed at them angrily. Showing his emotions had never been a strong suit of his, and he doubted that a few bad dreams would encourage him to be more open. Really, he was just glad that he had managed to avoid screaming or crying out in his sleep so far. His dreams were flying under everyone else's radars, for which he was grateful. He knew he was proud, and he didn't trust anyone here enough to let them see how he was feeling.

Lukas drew his knees up to his chest, pressing his cool forehead against them as he breathed in and out deeply. He would have done almost anything to know why this was happening. It made no sense to him. It wasn't as though he was stupid enough to think that he was somehow immune to trauma or lasting emotional pain, no, but the fact was that, even as he had struggled to work through the ordeal of the Expansion when he was younger, it had never amounted to nightmares like these.

He had been positively _wrecked_ after the Expansion. He had been scared, only eight years old and not sure how to keep his little sister safe. He had been forced from his home and watched the city where he had been raised burn down as servants fled with him. He had been completely alone and without any help from someone older and all the while plagued by thoughts of his parents-

Lukas slammed his hands to his temples, forcing that thought violently from his head. No, no, no. He refused to visit the nightmares in daylight. He refused to let them control the hours he was awake, as well as those where he was asleep. He let out a shuddering breath, swallowing thickly as nausea twisted his stomach into a knot. A low aching spread through his gut as the feeling worsened, and he hurriedly clambered down from the top bunk, pressing a hand to his mouth as he forewent shoes and ducked outside.

His stomach heaved but his oesophagus refused to yield anything. Groaning quietly, he glanced around at the deck of the barracks, and the door before shaking his head dismally and sticking two fingers down his throat. He would feel sick and miserable all day otherwise, he had come to find. Harshly jabbing at his gag reflex sent bile surging up into his mouth, and he doubled over to vomit into the fresh snow. This wasn't exactly how he had planned on starting his morning, but there was little he could do about it now. Spitting and wiping at his mouth, Lukas toed at the clean snow to hide the mess he had made and sighed, gazing around.

It was early – still far too early for their usual wake-up call. Squinting at the sky, he could see a hint of orange on the horizon, but other than that, it was a stretch of pale mauve and grey-blue shades. It couldn't have possibly been later than 4am, by his estimation. Even with his stomach settling and the last tremors of fear and horror fading from his body, Lukas knew that he wasn't going to be able to sleep. A low wind danced across the rough deck where he sat, reminding him that he had run out here with little more than a long-sleeved shirt, hoodie and a pair of three-quarter cotton pants to keep him warm. Despite that, he didn't feel overtly cold. Glancing absently up at the thermometer posted next to the door, he startled. It was -7°C, which, though indicating that today would be a lot warmer than they'd experienced thusfar, seemed inconsistent with Lukas' lack of discomfort.

The old adage which had been eluding his memory came back to him at that moment. _It's a blizzard to the king_. A simple, short statement that essentially communicated the sentiment of 'it's no bother at all'. People tended to change the gender of the subject depending on who was ruling Fynkn at the time, so king and queen were easily interchanged. He hummed slightly, considering the words. Most adages had a good, or at least a long-lasting, message behind them. Perhaps that one did too.

He was about to stand and go back inside to distract himself until it was time to start training, when the door swung open. Blinking in surprise, he watched as a slender figure made their way out, breathing heavy and ragged. Lukas's gaze immediately caught on the exposed skin of their shoulders and upper back. Scars, looking far too much like those that one would acquire from getting whipped, lashed agrily across the skin, raised and harrowing. He stilled, forcing his eyes away from the sight, completely unsure of how to proceed here. It was only when the figure inclined their head and stepped back a little, closer to Lukas, that he recognised Riya Kristoff. Her whole body was shuddering, breath stuttering dangerously. Her hands were in constant motion, clenching into fists and then relaxing in rapid succession.

Lukas felt embarrassment cloud him. He wasn't sure how to communicate to her that he was here. She didn't seem like she would take kindly to that. However, Riya didn't even seem to be aware that he was there. She was still shaking. He realised, with a start, that she was having a panic attack.

 _Fuck preserving her pride, then_. He thought before clambering to his feet and moving over to her. He kept a distance, unsure of whether he should touch her or not. A brief glimpse into her emotions exposed him to a raw tide of anxiety and concern and sheer dread. He hesitated, hanging back still, before he made his decision up. Gently, he used his powers to work his way around her wild emotions and, carefully started to make them shrink. He didn't dare suppress them, or get rid of them entirely, but he eased the burden just enough for her to come back to her senses.

"Riya?" he asked gently. She spun around, the wide, defensive look in her eyes and her expression softening fractionally when she realised who was speaking to her. Her breathing shuddered again, and he slowly moved forwards a little, placing his hands on her shoulders to ground her. She reached up and curled her hands tightly around his wrists, but she didn't try to remove them. "Just breathe." He coaxed softly. He removed one of her hands from his wrist and moved it to his side, where she could feel the in-and-out motions of his ribs. "In time with me, okay?" she nodded, but still looked a little wild-eyed.

He was sure to breathe in slowly, hold it for a moment or two, and take his time exhaling. Riya slowly started to match his rhythm, until her breathing had reverted to a normal pace, and some colour was starting to come back to her face. He gently removed his hand from her shoulder, and she withdrew her hand from his side quickly, folding her arms around herself. A beat of silence passed.

"You…you aren't going to ask?" Lukas sucked in a breath. He had heard Riya speak a lot more often in the last few days, but he had never heard her speak with such a raw, vulnerable tone. Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence. He shook his head.

"It's not my business." He said. She stared at him for a moment, nodding slowly. He pulled off his hoodie and offered it to her when he saw the goosebumps on her arms. She hesitated a moment, eyes flickering to her arms. His eyes followed hers and he felt the weight in his stomach grow heavier when he saw more brutal scars, likely also whip-inflicted, on the skin before slowly extending a hand and accepting it.

"A-aren't you c-cold?" she asked, stuttering slightly over the words. He hesitated a moment, then shrugged.

"I…I'm from Oslaholm, originally, and you know what the climate is like there. Cold doesn't bother me so much." She nodded, still reviewing him with a critical eye, as if she was trying to spot any sign of discomfort.

"I guess that makes sense." Riya eyed him almost distrustfully. "I suppose it's been a long time since you were home, right?" he nodded, but paused. Her eyes had an almost pleading look in them. She was lingering by the edge of the deck despite the fact that she was obviously freezing. Riya clearly didn't want to go back inside yet. He held up a finger.

"Wait here a second." He swung the door open and stepped inside again. Approaching his bunk, he almost jumped out his skin when Køhler shifted and cracked an eye open.

"Hmm?" the blond man made a noise. "Hvad er der med dig?" Lukas's brain momentarily screeched to a halt as he tried to interpret the soft Rywanese. The small part of his brain that remembered his lessons in the language when he was a child hurled enough comprehension forwards that he realised his protector was essentially saying 'what's wrong with you?' and rolled his eyes.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep, Matthias." Lukas bit back a small noise of surprise at his own words. That made the second time in three days that he had accidentally referred to the bounty hunter by his first name. He had done it just two days ago, and upon realising his slip-up, had promptly _booked it_ out of the area to avoid being teased by the older man. He had received a searching look from him at dinner, but Lukas had ultimately avoided an awkward conversation after that, for which he was glad. Luckily, the other man seemed too tired to realise what he had said, and simply snuggled down further into his blankets and started to snore softly.

Sighing in relief, Lukas retrieved his blanket from his bed and darted back outside to Riya. She blinked at him and the blanket in surprise. He moved over, near the door, and sat down, gesturing to the space next to him in a welcoming move. Riya raised an eyebrow, but moved to sit beside him regardless. He spread the blanket over the two of them, nodding to himself in satisfaction when he saw how much Riya relaxed once she was warm again.

"Thank you." She said after a few minutes of silence. He looked over at her in surprise.

"You're welcome, though I don't think I did much." She shrugged.

"The only two other people who have witnessed me acting like that have asked relentless questions about it. You didn't, so thank you." Lukas stared at the sky, and the growing patch of orange in the distance.

"Well, like I said, it's really none of my business." She inclined her head and stared at him for a moment, dark red hair spilling across her shoulders, but nodded after a moment.

"Okay then. If you don't mind me being a bit of a hypocrite, what were you doing out so early?"

He looked at her for a moment. "Same reason as you, I think. You missed me throwing up by a minute or two." She winced in a way that conveyed empathy rather than sympathy, and he distantly wondered how severe her panic attacks got. "I wasn't so much panicking as I was nauseous, though." She nodded after a moment. He didn't know why, but he felt oddly free to talk about what he was going through with her. She hardly had any reason to judge, and even if she did, Riya didn't strike Lukas as the type. He swallowed. "It's nightmares. They're starting to drive me crazy, honestly, with all the sleep I've been losing."

She was looking at him now, frowning gently. "That doesn't sound good. Have you tried getting sleeping meds from Sergeant Kolden?" he shook his head.

"I don't want to risk them making me sluggish in training. My metabolism has never been the most stable." She hummed gently, voicing her agreement.

"If you want to share your personal horror story, I'd be open to sharing mine." She murmured, ducking her head a little when he turned to look at her. "I usually don't talk about it, but I wouldn't mind telling you, I don't think."

Lukas hesitated for a moment, but then nodded.

"Alright then." He said softly. Riya shuffled a little, and when he looked up next, she had angled her body towards him, obviously ready to listen. He could feel the words poised on his tongue, the trauma behind his recurring dreams. _I found my parents' bodies_. They felt bitter and wrong to say. He looked at Riya. She seemed like an honest person. If she was going to be honest with him, it was only fair that he was honest with her too.

"I…I watched my parents die, during the Expansion." He said. The truth tasted acrid, but a weight lifted from his shoulders. It had been a long time since he had admitted that to someone. Saying that he found their bodies was usually enough to get more pity and melancholic looks than he could handle. He could hardly imagine the horror that the whole truth would warrant. Riya's brow creased, and her mouth turned downwards, but it wasn't a look of sympathy. It was sad, undoubtedly so, but she wasn't pitying him.

"I watched them die and for years I've thought that I had come to terms with it, but ever since coming back here, I've been having nightmares about it." he shook his head. "I…I don't know if I can deal with watching it over and over in my sleep. It's getting impossible to deal with." He felt warmth on his arm, before Riya had her hands wrapped around one of his. She waited a moment to speak.

"I know what it's like, to watch people die, though admittedly usually not directly. I won't pretend to know what your experience was like, but have you considered that the reason you're thinking about it so much is _because_ you're now on Fynkn?"

He frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're _lang av verden_. You haven't been on Fynkn for years and, if I'm guessing correctly, the last time you were was the Expansion. If that's when your parents died, then those are some of the last memories you have of Fynkn. Your mind is probably trying to reconcile the differences between Fynkn now and Fynkn then, and those memories are the most recent ones your subconscious can draw on." He blinked, looking at her with surprise. She smiled when she noted his expression. "My uncle studied mental and cognitive theory for years. He used to tell me all the interesting tidbits." He nodded.

"Well, that makes sense, I suppose." He said. Silence stretched between them and as he shifted his gaze to look over at her, his eyes caught on part of her shoulder that was exposed, a slew of raised scars visible on them. He didn't dare reach out and touch her, but she noticed his attention anyway. She smiled ruefully.

"I suppose it's my turn to share, right?" Lukas looked at her face, looked at the deep sadness lingering in her eyes.

"You don't need to." He said. She shook her head.

"I know. But I should." She settled back against the wall. "I should warn you, though. It's a long one, and it's not a happy one either. Since you're _lang av verden_ , most of this will be new to you." Lukas watched her carefully, but he couldn't see or feel any emotion that indicated she felt obliged to speak. She legitimately wanted to. He rearranged himself into a more comfortable position, and then nodded. She drew in a deep breath.

"There's a reason they call me _de fengslinger_."


	20. What Happened While You Were Gone

**Back once more! Fair warning, this chapter is, both thematically and content-wise, very similar to Chapter 35 (Song of the Blackbird) from HTS. It's a disturbing one, and I will provide warnings but there are a LOT.**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lukas and Matthias are both getting better and better at fighting, and are some of the stand-outs from Block D.**  
 **\- Leon celebrated his birthday along with Matthew and the others, and also met Emilia for the first time.**  
 **\- Inkar and Feliciano have decided to pursue the pirate Cahya Maharani to see if she took Lovino. In the case that it fails, they then plan to hunt down Barkhado Dirie.**  
 **\- After suffering from more horrific nightmares, Lukas shared some details of his past with Riya, who is now explaining her own.**

 **WARNINGS;**  
 **\- Mentions and descriptions of gunshot wounds, beatings, illness, child deaths, murders, whipping, stabbing and other acts of cruelty, violence and brutality**  
 **\- Vomiting, chemically-induced miscarriage**  
 **\- IMPORTANT: There is a scene of sexual assault in this chapter. It takes place in a flashback and also is not overtly detailed. I have marked the section out with three hashtags between DOUBLE LINE BREAKS, so please skip that section if you are uncomfortable or triggered by such content. Stay safe, people.**

 **Note: this chapter is intended to act as a parallel to Yao's experiences on the Arbiter. If anyone picks up on a small scene I threw in there, I will be HIGHLY impressed, so read carefully :D**

 **Please review!**

* * *

 _Alta-Vaan Registration Camp, Outside Keda City  
Korosi'ak Region, Fynkn_

 _7th Septombre, 4501CC  
(11 years ago)_

Riya had no idea what was going on. Her father had his arm looped around her shoulders, hugging her close to his side, obviously reluctant to let her go. A shudder passed down her spine. She hadn't been dressed for the cold when her parents had roused her from her sleep and taken her outside, and the thin cardigan that she had been able to grab wasn't nearly warm enough. She would have asked one of her parents for something warmer, but neither of them had been able to get any coats or scarves. Her mother was rubbing her hands together, her whole body shuddering. Riya pressed herself closer to her father's leg. He smiled down at her, but even the warmth in his expression was unable to hide the strain in his eyes.

Riya huffed, looking around. They weren't the only ones moving, though. Crowds of people on her street had also been ordered to get out of their houses and start walking. She just wished she knew _why_. Riya wasn't stupid; she might have only been 10 years old, but she wasn't stupid. She knew that things had changed a lot recently, ever since the soldiers dressed in dark green had invaded their streets and replaced the familiar, Fynknian faces that she knew. She knew that it had something to do with why she wasn't allowed to go out anymore, and why, if she ever mentioned the royal family, her parents' forced smiles would die and her mother would stifle sobs. She knew that something big had happened to her home, but no-one seemed to want to share what it was.

Riya sighed, rubbing at her eyes. She was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to go to bed. She tugged on her father's arm.

"Dad," she murmured, keeping her voice low like everyone else was, "where are we going?"

His brow furrowed. "We're just going to get registered, honey. They're doing it so they can keep track of everyone. Then we can go back home." Riya scrunched up her nose.

"How long will that take?"

"I don't know sweetheart, but we have to do it, okay? It's very important."

Riya sighed but nodded. Her father had worked in a few government departments before, and she had heard enough about processes and procedures that she knew they were important, even as dull and time-consuming as they could be. She shivered a little more, pressing closer to her father.

She looked up as some voices from the front of the line filtered back to her. Blinking wearily, she focussed on the building in front of them. It appeared to be somewhat hastily constructed, made primarily of dark wood and with brick foundations. She could see guards stationed around the area, each dressed in the uniform that her parents had already drilled into her to avoid. She glanced at their faces. Most of them were Yanish, that much she knew, and could see by their faces. It was interesting to her. She had been taught about other cultures and races, of course, but she had never really seen them in person.

The line of people halted suddenly, and it was only by virtue of her father's hand on her shoulder that she didn't run into the person in front of her. Her father leant down to whisper in her ear as her mother moved closer and took wrapped Riya's hand in her own.

"We just need to wait to get processed now." He murmured, smiling comfortingly. She forced herself to smile back. Right, she could do that.

The time started to slip away from her. They must have stood in the cold for two hours before they made their way to the front of the slowly advancing line. Riya swallowed as her parents moved to line up on either side of her; her father in front of her and her mother behind. Her father spoke for a few minutes, and did a few other things at the desk, and then stepped away, gesturing for Riya to step up to the front. Swallowing, she did as he bid.

The man seated at the desk had a harsh face but warm enough eyes. Some of the more severe lines in his face eased when he sighted her. He leant forward a little to make eye contact with her.

"Hello. You are Riya Kristoff, yes?" he said in heavily accented and somewhat broken Fynknian. She nodded shyly, eyes to the ground. He smiled slightly obviously trying to put her at ease despite the situation. "And what is your birthday, Riya?"

"14th of Maii." She murmured as he wrote it down. "In 4491." She added quickly. He nodded again, smiling slightly. He had her confirm her parents and address next, and then picked up a small, odd-looking machine. Riya shied away a little, but her mother gently held her in place by the shoulders. The man smiled gently.

"It's okay, come closer, I'll show you what it does." Still wary but undeniably curious, Riya shuffled back forwards. He turned it on it's side to show her. It looked almost like a box with a handle on one side, with a meter similar to a speedometer on the face, and a small digital screen next to it, obviously designed to display numbers. A handle that looked kind of like a joystick was on the left side of the machine, perpendicular to the rectangular face. On the other side was what looked like a small, dark cylinder with an odd, small knob on top attached to both the main structure and the cylinder by a red cable. He unscrewed the knob and pulled it out, revealing a long, very sharp looking needle. "Now, we use this little contraption to test people's blood. It can indicate it they are royal or noble, which is important for us to know." Riya blinked.

"How can you tell?" she asked, wariness vanishing as she examined the machine.

"Well, your royal family has those powers, you know? And most noble houses have a decent enough trace amount of those same powers, even if they aren't necessarily related to the royal family. Since it's passed on genetically, it can be detected by this little machine. Lots of Fynknians have very small trace amounts as well, but it's only if you get a big amount that it's important." He gave her an apologetic look. "I'm going to need to take some of your blood with this needle, I'm sorry. It won't hurt too much." Riya swallowed, but still gently offered her arm when her mother murmured for her to do so. The prick of the needle made her tear up, but she forced herself not to cry. The man smiled comfortingly as he put the needle back into the cylinder and flicked a switch on the side. The machine let out a small whirring noise as he placed it down on the table. Riya looked at it again, feeling weird about the fact that it was testing her _blood_.

"How can you tell if they're noble?" she inquired. He looked up again.

"Well, the machine gives us a number. It uses a scale from 0 to 2000, you see. 0 is the lowest, so it would probably be the sort of score that I would get, and 2000 would mean that they have the strongest possible manifestation of royal powers. Most normal Fynknians score under 300, most nobles fall between about 400 and 700, and most royalty sit in around the 900 to 1200 range." She blinked up at him.

"Has anyone got higher than that?" he nodded.

"Yes, of course. There was a royal named King Delmar, I believe, who got about 1700. But he was the strongest Bondevik in a long time, if I remember correctly." The machine hummed, and he picked it up again, before turning it to show her. "You see? 170. That's pretty standard."

He wrote it down, and then nodded at her, smiling softly. "Okay, that's you done. Go wait with your father, alright?" she nodded, smiling before scurrying off to stand next to her father, who squeezed her shoulder warmly.

"What score did you get Dad?" she asked curiously. He smiled.

"Only 85. I'm about as far from royal as you could get."

Her mother was a lot quicker to get away from the desk, and rubbed her arm where the needle had stabbed her. Riya asked her the same question.

"235, sweetheart." Her mother said. "Still definitively ordinary." It was only as they were ushered away and told that they could now return home that she thought to question what they had just been through.

"Mama, why were they testing our blood for royalness anyway?" her mother looked down at her, smiling sadly. Her mother's family had always loved the royal family, and nobility, and it had made her sad whenever they were even brought up nowadays.

"They're trying to find the prince and princess, darling." She explained softly. "They didn't find them in the palace, so they thought a normal family might have taken them in." Riya nodded.

"Oh, okay then. Did a normal family take them in?" her mother shrugged.

"I don't know, darling. I hope not." Riya blinked.

"Why not?" her mother shrugged.

"Because those soldiers aren't going to be nice to the family if they do find them." She said simply. Riya paused. That man who had talked to her had been nice, but, she supposed, they couldn't all be like that.

 _(They really weren't. He was the nicest person she ever met from the Union.)_

 _(And the only nice one.)_

* * *

Lukas was watching her carefully. He hummed softly.

"Are you sure you want to keep going?" he asked quietly. She started a little. His voice was always just a little deeper than one would expect from looking at him. She nodded

* * *

 _Keda City,  
Korosi'ak Region, Fynkn_

 _Augynt, 4504CC  
(8 years ago)_

Riya ducked under the frost-laden chicken wire of Sami's yard, being sure to place her feet solid and flat on the icy ground as she plucked a loose leaf from her hair and discarded it. She huffed, watching her breath mist in front of her as she stuffed the lumpy bundle in her arms under her malformed wool sweater. Glancing quickly from side to side and deeming the road clear, she jogged across the front of the yard and stepped out onto the street, marching purposefully towards her own house, praying that the small cluster of guards that she could now see at the street kept to themselves.

The tightness in her chest relaxed somewhat as she jumped into her own yard. It seemed that, today at least, she wasn't going to be bothered. She threw open the wind-battered door and strolled inside.

"Honestly, Riya, can't you be a little more gentle with that door? Saints help us if we need it replaced." Her Aunt Sibbe remarked, sticking her head out from the corner. "How did you do today?" Riya yanked the bundle out from under her sweater and dumped it on the cluttered kitchen counter, slicing it open with the dull copped knife on her belt easily. Her Aunt peered inside and visibly relaxed; a whole leg of salted meat, about 6 onions, 4 loaves of flatbread and numerous other small food items. Sibbe kissed her on the cheek. "Good girl. Did you have any trouble on the way back?"

Riya shook her head. "None. There were some guards down the street but none of them seemed interested in bugging me." Sibbe nodded.

"Yes, we have a pretty good rotation this quarter. I will say, though, I'm dreading when they get replaced in Octava." Riya grinned.

"You always dread the guard changing, Auntie. Calm down a little, yeah?" Sibbe rolled her eyes but smiled.

"Go off and find your cousins. Malene and Niklas have been waiting for you." She grinned at her aunt and kicked off her boots, setting off to track down her little cousins. Little Malene and Niklas were only 5 and 3 respectively, and they were quite possibly the cutest things she had ever seen.

She stepped around a stack of Uncle Edvard's papers and research books, being careful not to disturb the precarious pile.

Her family's house had been pushed to it's absolute capacity not long after the Union had consolidated their power in Fynkn in 4502CC. Her family had a lot of relatives who had lived in Oslaholm, their planet's capital and the former seat of their royal family. As more and more troops had arrived in the capital, it had steadily become more and more dangerous and miserable to live in the once beautiful and wealthy city. Her relatives; her aunt Sibbe and Uncle Kjartan, had uprooted themselves and their four children – Jesper, Lotte, Malene and Niklas - to come and live temporarily with Riya's parents and maternal grandmother. In addition to them, her Uncle Edvard and his two children – Nella and Cato – had also come along. It was good for her, really, that their grandmother's house was already so spacious. With 14 people under one roof, it could sometimes get a little bit hectic just to move around, much less live comfortably.

But they managed to make it work, at least most of the time. Food was always a little tight, and Riya had sacrificed more than one meal to ensure that the smallest and most vulnerable of her cousins got a proper amount of food, but it was nice to have her family around her.

"Reee!" a small, very excited voice called out. Already grinning, Riya turned as Niklas, her three-year-old cousin with the brightest, warmest eyes you would ever see, came stumbling down the hall with his huge stuffed wolf in one hand and what she recognised as one of Sibbe's scarves clutched in the other. She bent down and scooped him up into a hug as he giggled madly.

"Hello my little lion." She said, tickling him a little as he laughed and twisted to get away from her. "How have you been today?" he giggled and grinned at her.

"Good! Mally and I played dragons and princesses again!"

"Oh? And were you the fearsome dragon or the fair maiden in need?"

"I was the princess! Mally makes a better dragon anyway. She can _growl!"_ Riya laughed. Yes, Malene's growling was rather realistic. She had once frightened Sibbe, her own mother, into thinking that were was some sort of wild animal hiding under their stairs outside. She bounced her small cousin up and down, eliciting more laughter from him.

"Well, let's go and find Mally, yeah?"

* * *

"So have Niklas and Malene exhausted you enough, or are you willing to help me chop some wood?" Riya glanced up from the book she had been reading, smiling at her cousin. Nella was one of her only cousins that was around her own age – Nella was only a year older than she was – and it was always nice to spend time with her. She grinned in response to Nella's shrewd smile and stood.

"Of course Nel."

Working with Nella was always a peaceful task. They normally kept quiet, exchanging the occasional piece of conversation or a small anecdote or minor complaint. The weighty feel of the axe in her hand and methodical swing as it sliced evenly through wood was oddly calming. Riya smiled slightly, tossing her hair out of her eyes. She knew that she didn't look like a typical Fynknian, with her red hair and all, but she had been taught all of the essential skills of how to be one. Chopping wood, clearing snow, starting fires and learning how to calm undomesticated wolves had been half her childhood.

"Riya, stop."

She looked up in surprise, only to see Nella gazing at something over her shoulder. Heart stuttering in fear, she spun around, axe still clutched in her hands. A bedraggled, bloodied young man was crouched by the tree-line of the forest near their house. She tightened her grip for a moment, exchanging a look with Nella as her cousin stepped up beside her and placed a warning hand on her arm. The man seemed to be breathing heavily. In the distance, she heard a loud siren noise. Almost simultaneously, the man lifted his head and incidentally exposed the small brand on the jacket he wore.

The door to the house burst open and their Uncle Edvard stumbled out along with Riya's father Arns, murmuring that they should get inside and stay there while the _anti-opprørere_ , as they were known by locals, did their work, stopping in their tracks when they spotted the man. The stranger staggered to his feet, and it was only then that Riya noticed the grisly gunshot wound on his stomach.

Within a second she had connected the dots. An injured man, definitely Fynknian, wearing the brand of the old army's Second Division, a branch which had famously defected and posited an uprising against the Union, and the sirens ringing out loudly, belonging to the _anti-opprørere_ , the Union's specialist suppressionists-

 _A rebel_

Her thoughts had barely reached that conclusion before her father and Uncle evidently reached a conclusion of their own. There was a moment when the five of them all stood perfectly still, Uncle Edvard and her father staring at the rebel and Nella and her staring at them and the rebel splitting his attention between them all. Then Arns and Edvard were moving forward. In a few moments they had the young man's arms hooked over their shoulders and were hauling him towards the house. Nella and Riya took the hint, throwing down their axes and bolting after them, wood forgotten.

Riya slammed the back door shut and locked it once everyone was inside. Her father shifted the young man's weight off himself and gestured to Nella, who immediately moved to take his place.

"Edvard, Nella, get him downstairs. Staunch that bleeding. Riya, with me please." She followed her father obediently as he washed his hands clean of any blood and examined his clothes to ensure that he was clean. He pulled an assortment of vegetables from the cupboard and shoved a cutting board and knife into her hands after grabbing one of each for himself.

"What are we doing?" she asked as she followed his lead and began to chop them.

"Looking busy." He said. They worked for about 10 minutes before the sound of harsh knocking rang out from the front door. She froze, but her father patted her on the shoulder, murmuring a low, "Keep going, I'll handle this." As he set down his own knife and made his way over to answer the door. She continued to chop, straining her ears as she heard someone questions him in rough and disjointed Fynknian. Her father answered politely, not too quickly and not too slowly either. After a few minutes, she heard retreating footsteps down the stairs and the door close. Her father touched her on the arm as he entered the kitchen again. "We're clear. That was close, though." She set down the knife, nodding.

They were both silent for a moment, before simultaneously realising what had them so concerned in the first place. Her father led the way.

The cellar was small. It had always been small. The ceiling sagged a little, and the walls were little more than hard-packed dirt, but it was large enough to squeeze a few articles of furniture into, and suitable enough a place to hang out when one was bored or sick of everyone else in the house. Now, it was a medical room.

Nella and Edvard had pulled out a fold-out table they normally kept against the wall, and shoved everything else into the corners of the room. The young man was laid flat on the table, hand pressed firmly down on his side where he was bleeding. Nella looked relieved when Riya and her father appeared. Edvard nodded in approval.

"No trouble then?" Arns shook his head, and he sighed in relief. "In that case, then, I'd like some help. The boy's going to need some amateur surgery."

"Tonje is going to kill me." Riya's father murmured. She winced. It was true that her mother wasn't always so forgiving of his impulsive streak, and this far outdid anything else he had done before. At the very least, Uncle Edvard had been in on it too, so her attention and by extension, yelling, would be directed at two people rather than one.

Riya and Nella were forced out of the cellar while Arns and Edvard worked to save the rebel boy. They sat on the ground in front of the door, both a little too shocked and shaken to make conversation with one another. Her thoughts drifted to the boy, and whether he would live or not. Time would tell, she supposed. She couldn't help but be grateful that they had avoided trouble with the Unionists. They were a nasty bunch.

 _(As it turned out, Riya's mother didn't kill her father. Tonje Kristoff spent a good amount of time fretting and scowling, but for once she and her husband were in agreement)_

 _(The boy spent a whole night and day asleep, but he didn't die. He lived a long time after that day.)_

 _(And she was wrong. The Union did catch up with them. It just took a little longer than she had thought it would.)_

* * *

Lukas reached over and took Riya's hands. She shuffled a little closer to him, appreciating the warmth he provided. She hadn't told this story before. It was freeing and terrifying at the same time.

She kept going.

* * *

 _Keda City,  
Koro'siak Region, Fynkn,_

 _22nd Decambyr, 4504CC  
(8 years ago)_

"Anders, just because I told you that you're allowed to come upstairs now, doesn't mean that you should do it _this often_." Riya suppressed her grin, exchanging a look with Nella and her Aunt Sibbe as Tonje lectured Anders.

"I know, Mrs Kristoff, but it's getting unbearable to be stuck downstairs so often."

"You'll have to deal with it." Tonje responded, but everyone could see that her resolve was cracking. "And I've told you, Tonje is fine."

And there it was. Her ability to resist Anders' unrelenting charms was gone. Riya rolled her eyes.

Anders Nese had staggered, beaten and bloodied, into their lives about four and a half months ago. Though a pleasant and charming young man, who had given them all some fascinating pieces of information about how the insurgency against the union was _actually_ going, his lust for adventure was evident. Being cooped up didn't sit well with the guy, and he was always trying to bargain for what freedoms he could.

The bullet wound in his stomach had kept him to firm bed rest for over a month. It had been a very severe wound, one that someone wouldn't normally have survived outside of a hospital, and Anders was always sure to sing praises of Riya's family for that. Even throughout most of Septombre and Octava, he had been taking it easy. He had managed to accumulate a few more rights – as strictly dictated by Tonje – throughout Novymbir, and now that Decambyr was almost through, he was clearly confident that he was ready to go and rejoin his comrades in the north. He made for a very persuasive person, which made it hard for everyone to say no to him.

He was a very attractive young man – silvery hair that fell in graceful waves, light eyes in glacial blue tones and a fine facial structure only contributed to it. He was 20 years old, older than Riya had estimated when he had first been taken into their house. Other insurgents had come and gone from their house in the time that he had stayed with them – taking Anders in had started up a dangerous habit for the Kristoff and Kildahl families – and it was obviously starting to aggravate him that he was never able to go with them.

Nella placed a placating hand on his arm. "We need to make sure that the wound is healed, Anders, or you'll just set yourself up for more time in bed." He smiled genially at Nella, and Riya raised an eyebrow as her cousin flushed a little. She had nothing against Anders – he was a good guy, but he was 20 and Nella was 15. Riya knew for a fact that her father had pulled Anders aside when it became clear that Nella liked him to explain that she was a teenage girl and he was a grown man. Her father had seemed more than satisfied with his response, apparently.

Anders was always kind, but he kept a measured distance with both Riya and Nella. It wasn't that they didn't trust him, but he had made it clear that he didn't want to make them uncomfortable, especially given that they had both had enough negative experiences of getting leered at by Union guards on the streets. She knew that Anders could always tell when it had happened to one of them, and Uncle Edvard had had to physically restrain him more than once so that he didn't barge out onto the street to fight them.

"Yeah, I guess so." Anders shrugged, rising from his place on the couch to move into the kitchen. "Kjartan! Do you want any help with dinner?" Riya's other uncle gave the affirmative and Anders disappeared around the corner, no doubt to assist in their tiny kitchen.

Riya turned a scrutinising gaze on Nella, who flushed under her accusing gaze. She elbowed her cousin. "Stop looking at me like that."

"I will when you stop looking at Anders _like that_. Come on Nella, you don't want Dad and Uncle Edvard throwing him onto the street, do you?" Nella grumbled a little, but shook her head.

"No."

Riya grinned in amusement.

 _(It was one of the last times she would smile for a long time.)_

 _(By then, they were on the scent.)_

* * *

Lukas was tense. She knew that he could tell something bad was coming. She regarded him. He was remarkably perceptive. He reminded her a little of Anders, actually. She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts.

The hard part was coming up now.

* * *

 _Keda City,  
Koro'siak Region, Fynkn_

 _3rd Janwir, 4505CC  
(7 years ago)_

Aiding or abetting a rebel or insurgent was a crime. The harshest one that someone could commit in Union-occupied Fynkn. It was so severe that no matter how much one supported the rebellion, most would never dare lift a finger to help them.

The saddest part though? The thing that was making Riya's chest tighten and her stomach churn?

Anders was going to leave in three days. Her family had all come to terms with that, and he had reached out to an old contact of his who had been able to relay across a time and place to meet for him to get back to the rebels. He had started to pack up the meagre possessions he had come to them with in addition to everything they had bought him over time.

The Union only conducted random sweeps twice a year. Why did they have to do it today?

Riya watched helplessly as her father's head was yet again slammed harshly against the wall, so hard this time that it left a dent in the plaster. Her mother was sobbing, and everyone else seemed mute with terror and confusion. Her little cousins didn't seem to be able to grasp what was happening. She swallowed down a sob. Nella was next to her, pressed against the wall by the bad end of a rifle. She was shaking.

Anders' entire face was covered in blood. His nose was definitely broken, as was his jaw and perhaps even his eye sockets too. He had been stabbed twice in the side, and Riya watched the dark stain slowly spread across his clothes. Shaking, she turned her gaze on the head _anti-opprørere_. He was tall, with his black hair cropped short and dressed in a dark green uniform that, until he had started to brutalise Anders, had been impeccable. His mouth was stretched into an unsettling grin. His name was Jiahao Qin, by his own admission.

"I think it's time that we escort you all to your new homes, don't you think?" he asked. Perhaps one of the more intimidating things about him was that his Fynknian was perfect; fluent, unfaltering and enunciated to a T. He didn't stutter or fumble over words; his every threat was cool and calm and delivered with maximum shock value. He gestured to one of the men behind him. "You, Wuhan Ma, take the rebel to the truck, if you can do so without losing him, that is." The man paused, scowling. Qin grinned at the look on his face. "Oh, come now, I know that you're used to the security measures of the Arbiter, but I don't think Nese will give you much trouble." Qin looked down at Anders' bloody face again. "And don't get too distracted by his pretty face. I've heard that was another failing of yours."

The other _anti-opprørere_ scowled, but didn't comment, stepping forward to haul Anders to his feet and drag him outside, where Riya could see heavy-set trucks ready to take them away. Her stomach turned. She absently noted that her smallest cousin, Niklas, had wet himself from fear. Shaking, she reached for Nella's hand, who grabbed her and squeezed tight. They would stay together, if it was possible, she would stay with at least one member of her family.

 _(Later, she almost regretted that she did remain with so many members of her family. It was always easier to hear about someone's death than witness it first-hand, after all.)_

* * *

Lukas was silent for a moment.

"So, _de fengslinger?"_ he inquired. She shrugged, pulling their shared blanket up to her chin.

"People under detention. People who have been captured by the Union and thrown in labour camps for the various 'crimes' that they've committed."

Lukas hesitated. "You don't need to say anything more."

"I know."

"You still want to?"

"If you're still willing to listen."

"…I am."

* * *

 _Sens-Min Labour Internment Camp,  
Koro'siak Region, Fynkn_

 _12th Jullat, 4505CC  
(7 years ago)_

Riya slumped down onto the lumpy mattress next to Nella, her whole body aching and shaking with exhaustion. Sixteen straight hours of work wasn't something that her body was made for, especially given that she was only 14 years old and very much so underfed right now. Nella stirred next to her, blinking wearily.

"You okay?" she croaked out. Riya nodded.

"Yeah. You?" Nella nodded. They were too tired to have normal conversations anymore, but they seemed to have gotten closer than they were before, which Riya appreciated.

Her family had been split up a little when the Union had captured them. Riya and her father had managed to stay together, and Nella had managed to stay with her father, Edvard, and her younger brother, Cato. Riya's mother was in another camp, as was Anders. Her Aunt Sibbe, along with her oldest children, Jesper and Lotte, had also been carted away to another camp. Her husband, Kjartan, however, was also in Riya and Nella's camp, with his two young children Malene and Niklas. Their family had almost been severed in half but most of them had someone else to rely on.

Life in Sens-Min was hard but not impossible if you kept your head down and kept to yourself.

She turned her head when her uncle Kjartan coughed.

"You okay, Uncle Kjar?" he nodded, drawing Malene and Niklas close.

"I'm okay Riya. They had you on the axing rotation today, I'm guessing?" she nodded. He shook his head. "I don't understand how they can inflict that on children. I would switch with you if I were able…"

"It's okay, Uncle Kjar. I only have another two days, anyway. I can manage."

Life in Sens-Min was hard, but not impossible. That was what Riya told herself every day. She had her family with her. They could do this. They would make it out alive.

She had been a blind, oblivious, naïve idiot when she was 14.

Her Uncle Kjar, who had always picked her up and swung her around when he saw her no matter how tall she had gotten, died less than six months after that conversation.

* * *

Lukas looked like he wanted to say something. She sent him a pleading look.

"Please, just let me get through this."

He remained silent.

* * *

 _2nd Maarch, 4507CC  
(5 years ago)_

"She needs food." Nella insisted, tossing her filthy hair over her shoulder. Riya nodded.

"I can see that, Nel, but there's no way they would give us any for her if they knew it was going to end up in her stomach." Nella shook her head, hopeless and confused. Riya drew her smallest cousins close. Ever since Kjartan had succumbed to a lung condition early last year, Malene and Niklas had slept curled up against Riya and Nella. They were too young for any of this. Malene was only 8 years old. She was young, far too young, to be getting starved to death.

Poor little Mally had made the mistake of biting a soldier when he had tried to force her face into her own vomit after her exhaustion and nausea had gotten to her and she had been sick on the job. They were depriving her of food as a punishment, as if trying to shove an 8 year old's face into a pool of vomit wasn't awful and deprived enough.

Nella was silent. They had tried everything, begging and bartering and even trying to smuggle food out of the eating hall for her. Every one of their attempts had resulted in failure, and in Mally having her sentence extended. There was no two ways around it – their cousin was going to follow her father into the grave soon enough if they didn't do anything.

Riya looked at her cousin, who was still quiet, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously. "I might have an idea," she said after a long moment. Riya perked up.

"Excellent. I'll help." Nella shook her head firmly.

"No, it'll be best if I do this alone, I think." She looked up, then nodded again, like she was tryning to reassure herself of something. "I'll be back in a while."

Nella was gone for well over an hour and a half. Riya tried not to let her anxiety and fears get to her, but by the time her cousin wandered back into their barracks, she was on the verge of panic. Nella smiled weakly, and held up a small, heavy loaf of bread and a bottle of water.

"Success." She croaked out, hurrying to Malene's side to give her the food. After she was fed, watered and thoroughly passed out on her mattress, Riya quietly turned to Nella.

"What did you do to get that?" she asked. Nella remained silent.

"Does it matter?" Riya hissed quietly through her teeth.

"Yes, it matters. Nel…" her cousin wrapped her arms around her middle, expression crumpling as tears started to run down her face.

"I…I let them…" she trailed off, but Riya understood. She threw her arms around her cousin and held her close as she broke down and sobbed. She didn't bother with platitudes. She knew there was no way to make this situation better.

* * *

When Riya realised that Lukas was shaking, she thought for a moment that he was colder than he had let on earlier, and moved to shuffle more of the blanket over to him. She had already stolen his hoodie, after all, so it was only fair that he got a large percentage of the blanket. He was taller and broader than her, after all.

Before she could move, though, she realised that he wasn't cold.

He was shaking with rage.

Riya started slightly. His hands were balled into fists, and his jaw was clenched so hard that she honestly feared he would crack some of his teeth. He drew in a shaky breath, obviously trying to keep his emotions in check. Once he had calmed down enough, she just nodded sadly.

"Believe me, I know."

* * *

 _5th Maii, 4507CC  
(5 years ago)_

Nella screamed. It was equally a sound of anguish and horror as it was sadness and rage. Riya sat beside her, numb to the core. Nella's screaming woke the others in their barracks, and she could hear the telltale sound of footsteps coming from soldiers outside, no doubt a group sent to investigate the commotion. Riya sobbed, her own grief muted but just as potent. She placed her hand on Malene's chest again, not even sure why she bothered.

She was just as cold, hard and dead as she had been when they'd woken up.

The doors at the far end of the building opened, soldiers marching in and barking at the people still waking up to get off their asses and outside. One of them marched up and examined the still-wailing Nella, and Malene's impossibly small body. He grunted something in Yanish into the radio strapped to his lapel and stepped forward. He briefly pressed his fingers against Malene's neck, where a pulse had previously beat away, before withdrawing. He picked up one of Nella's discarded blankets and spread it over Mally's body

One of the other guards approached and seized Nella by the shoulders; another did the same to Riya just a moment later, and they were both hauled gracelessly away from their dead cousin. Riya began to struggle, thrashing around and lashing out with her arms angrily. They couldn't take Mally away, they just couldn't. She had watched her grow up for the last six years. Did that mean nothing now?

Nella had gone limp and was letting the guards carry her outside, expression so void of emotion that Riya knew she was going into shock. Letting her efforts cease, she slumped in defeat and let herself be dragged away from a little girl's corpse.

Things were significantly harder after that. Life at Sens-Min was not easy, nor was it survivable. She had already sacrificed two family members to the horrors of the labour camp so far, and she shuddered at the thought of losing more.

Niklas didn't seem to grasp that his big sister was gone. He kept turning his wide, dark eyes on Riya and asked where Mally went, and if she was coming back. Nella stopped answering him altogether, and Riya did her best to explain death to him. She didn't think that he understood.

He developed a cough in late Augynt, followed quickly by pain in his stomach and back. He became nauseous, and vomited the small amounts of food that the guards actually bothered to give them. A slight warm feeling to his cheeks developed into a fever of 41°C. He was only diagnosed with typhus three days before his little body succumbed to it.

Riya, Nella, Arns, Edvard and Cato all sat together for an hour, mourning their sweet little relatives. Riya's father scrounged up an old candle and lit it for two minutes before blowing it out. She spent the night wrapped in her father's arms, crying.

* * *

Lukas' hand on her shoulder was tentative. His anger had faded and given way to sadness. It wasn't pity. It was understanding. He knew what it was like to lose someone.

She leant into his touch, and moved on.

* * *

 _27th Fybwari, 4508CC  
(4 years ago)_

Riya didn't doubt that 4508CC was the worst year of her life. But the first half of the year was a breed of brutal that she would never forget.

A new guard started working at Sens-Min, going by the name of Yimu Han. He was in maybe his thirties, with, if what she had picked up from his conversations with other guards, two children. Han initially only stuck out to her because he paid her attention. He dragged her out of a lineup one morning, staring at her quizzically. Like the unsettling guard who had captured her family – Jiahao Qin – his Fynknian was flawless.

"You're Fynknian?" he had exclaimed in confusion. She nodded curtly. He tipped his head to the side slightly. "Peculiar. I thought Fynknians were supposed to have pale hair. Why don't you?"

"My grandmother was Syhvvanian, sir." She said, tone racked with exhaustion and disinterest. Han hummed.

"I see." His gaze raked over her, and she abruptly felt like it was dangerous to stand near him. She leant back slightly, just enough to give herself some space, whilst not alerting him to what she was doing. "I wanted to ask, how fast can you run?"

Something she learned quickly; Yimu Han was the worst person she had ever met. He had made them clear the common space, and had her stand at one end, facing the other wall. Han had plucked four soldiers out of the rabble to stand on the wall to her left, perpendicular to her.

"There's a game we used to play, over in Seshok-Ro." When the other guards had enquired as to the game's name, he had smiled. "It's called Shoot Straight. It's not hard. A prisoner runs as fast as they can towards the other end, and the guards on the sidelines shoot straight ahead as they pass and try to hit them." Riya's blood had gone cold. Nella, relegated to the side with everyone else, was gaping in horror. Riya's mind raced. The distance between her and the other wall was about 60 metres. That was a decent enough distance to get shot in. Granted, there were only four guards on the sidelines, but she knew that they would aim to kill. Most of the people who worked here were sadistic bastards, and she knew they wouldn't think twice about it.

"For today, we will try to shoot the mongrel." Han said, voice still level and calm. He smiled at Riya. "I hope you are a fast runner."

* * *

The small, exclamatory noise that Lukas made in the back of his throat made her look up again. She smiled wryly.

"Rumours about the Shoot Straight game spread to pretty much every labour camp. They use it as a threat elsewhere, if I've heard correctly. News of it even made it back here." She gestured to the training grounds. "That's why Kolden always looks like he's sucked on a lemon when I sprint. I had to be a good runner, and he knows how I got those skills."

Lukas looked horrified. She shrugged his hoodie partially off and shoved the back of her shirt down a little, pointing to an impossibly straight groove across her back. "I wasn't good the first few times I did it. Some of them scraped me, but I lived. I became Han's personal favourite. Called me his 'champion' and made me run every day of the week." She felt the barest brush of Lukas' fingers on her scar before they withdrew and she pulled her shirt and hoodie back up. His expression looked borderline tortured.

She pulled the blanket closer and ploughed onwards.

* * *

 _###_

* * *

 _12th Apryl, 4508CC  
(4 years ago)_

One month before Riya's 17th birthday, she was assigned to a late shift.

She never did late shifts. Especially not since Han had come along, because he always wanted his 'champion' to be well rested to give them a good show in the mornings. Her skin crawled. She knew that there was some reason for that.

The reason, as it turned out, was Yimu Han himself.

She finished early; there were still about thirty minutes left until curfew, so she was keen to book it back to her barracks and get some extra sleep. She was stopped in her tracks by Han. He smiled at her. She hated that smile. She hated _him_ , honestly. She hated all of them, and yet she was surrounded by Unionists at every turn.

"Hello my little Champion." He purred. "How did the late shift treat you?" she took a step back, stomach turning. "I know this is short notice, but I don't think that you'll be running tomorrow morning." That statement caught her by surprise.

"I won't be?" she questioned, brow furrowing in suspicion. "Why not?" Han shrugged.

"Can I not give my champion a little break every now and then?" he said. His tone was innocent, but the look in his eyes was malicious, and his body language made him look like a predator poised to strike. He moved forward, swinging an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her. "I can't have you ruining your pretty little body _too_ much." She squirmed in his grasp, a shiver going up her spine.

He began to lead her, pulling her across the common grounds even as she struggled to get away from him. "Stop fighting me, little mongrel. I just want to talk to you for a few minutes." She found herself being steered inside one of the guards' buildings, and into a room. It was shockingly warm. Riya hadn't felt the heat of a fire in so long she had almost forgotten the sensation.

She was clearly in Han's private rooms. The walls were panelled in wood. A bed was pushed up against one wall, and a large mahogany desk sat in a corner, covered in papers and files. A brown bearskin decorated his floor. She stepped back as the door closed behind her. Her hands were shaking slightly, so she his them behind her back. Han was watching her carefully. His gaze was heavy, sliding tellingly from her face down to the rest of her body. Her skin crawled, and she took another step back.

He walked forwards abruptly, and she could only take a few more steps backward until the backs of her legs hit the front of his desk. He paused, cocking his head at her.

"Come now, Riya, don't be so resistant. We only have 25 minutes."

He was taller than her. He was older than her. He was stronger than her.

She scratched at his eyes and lashed out with her feet and used her elbows and knees to try and keep him back, but ultimately, she was no match. Her struggling was little more than a waste of energy. For all her fighting, she still ended up lain flat on the brown bearskin on the floor, pinned underneath him, head close enough to the flames that her cheeks were seared as he thrust violently into her.

She didn't know if she was meant to cry or not. It hurt. It definitely hurt, and on more than just a physical level, but her body just wouldn't let her. She felt disconnected from everything; from her body, the situation, everything. Han bit her neck, no doubt adding to the bruises she would have from earlier when he had wrapped his hands around her throat and _squeezed_.

"You should feel honoured." He murmured into her ear, not slowing his relentless pace. "I'm very picky when it comes to incubators." His tight hold on her hips tightened and he surged forward and gasped and then he relaxed and then she realised what had happened. She didn't move as he pulled out of her and buttoned up his pants, feeling numb all over. He seized her coat and hauled her to her feet. Her thighs felt slick. "Go to bed, my little champion. I'll see you tomorrow."

She must have made her way back to the barracks somehow, and staggered to her mattress, curled up near to those of Nella and her father. She heard her father stir as she crumpled onto the mattress.

"Riya?" he murmured. She was silent for a long moment.

"Dad…?" she responded, voice broken. He sat up immediately, fumbling for the small torch he had been given to work in mines a few miles away. He flicked it on. The light blinded her for a moment. He was staring at her, expression deeply concerned. She realised she was shaking. He reached out to touch her arm gently, and she drew away to avoid the contact. Her dress rode up a little. There was blood all over her legs. He saw it.

There was a moment of complete silence, before her father gently asked. "Who?"

"Han." She murmured. He nodded, his whole body shaking.

He shook Nella awake, silent as they both helped her to clean herself up and change clothes. He didn't say another word at all. In fact, it was one of the last things Riya ever heard him say.

* * *

###

* * *

Riya didn't know Lukas Christensen well, but she felt she could trust him. She also felt that she could read his emotions by now. He was very careful with them, but if you knew what to look for, it was possible to understand what he was feeling.

Right now? He was deathly quiet. He didn't offer apologies, or condolences, and he didn't try to touch her but didn't move away either.

He was angry. Angrier than he had been earlier. Far, far angrier.

His hands were still clenched into fists. His knuckles had turned white, but a flash of red caught her off guard, gently taking his hands, she turned them over. His nails were digging so deep into his palms that he had cut right through the skin. Blood was streaked across his hands. She was silent, unsure of how to continue.

"It was a long time ago." She murmured. Lukas exhaled.

"That doesn't change a damn thing and you know it."

"What will you do if I tell you that I've moved on from it?" he raised his eyes, and Riya felt her blood run cold. She knew it wasn't directed at her, but the look in his eyes went beyond murder.

"Then I would say that it is wonderful to hear that, but it won't stop me." She fell silent.

"If you don't want to hear any more then I'll stop."

"Riya…you lived through all of this. If I can't manage to sit through hearing about it, then I may as well leave. I could never aspire to be on the same level of strength that you are, I know, but you trusted me enough to tell me this. Saying this is helping you. So, keep talking, please."

She watched his face for a moment, and hesitated, but after a moment, she did continue.

* * *

 _13th Apryl, 4508CC  
(4 years ago)_

Riya's father had never been one to sit quietly and watch injustice happen. Never. She should have stopped him. She should have.

She was in a state of shock. She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't do anything but stare at the ceiling. Nella was by her side the whole time. When the wake-up call came around, she stood feeling like death. Nella was holding her hand as they walked out into the yard.

Han was standing where he always did. His eyes somehow found her in the masses. He smiled. She gagged. Nella yanked her hair back from her face as she vomited up sour bile, rubbing her back. She didn't comment on it, but Riya could feel the rage of the stare she sent Han as her cousin wrapped her in a hug and pulled her over to her side.

When they were sent to their work stations, she went through the motions, grateful that they had been ingrained in her by now. She could have done this work in her sleep. Her father was about two spaces down the conveyor line from her. Riya heard some talking at the entrance, and then felt her father's hand on her arm. She turned, perplexed. His face was drawn.

"Riya. I love you more than anything in the world, never forget that. Take care of yourself, and never stop fighting. You deserve more than this, and I'm sorry that I couldn't be the one to give it to you. I'll give you what I can." He cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her forehead. "I love you, Riya. I love you so much." Then he stepped away from her and she turned and Han was there and he was walking towards her but her father moved faster.

Then Han was on the ground and her father had buried something sharp and metal into his back and then he was moving again as guards rushed him and stabbed something else into Han's left eye and Han screamed-

And then her father was being dragged off Han and hauled to his feet. Han was crying out in pain, one hand clutching his face as blood gushed from his (hopefully) wrecked eye. The hand was hovering by his side, near where her father had stabbed him the first time. Riya stared.

One of them pulled out a gun and aimed it at her father. She turned away. A gunshot cracked the air open.

* * *

Lukas was silent. He didn't seem to know what to say.

Riya didn't know either, so she kept going instead.

* * *

 _18th Jaune, 4508CC  
(4 years ago)_

Life lost a lot of it's meaning after her father was gone. She had Nella, and she still had Uncle Edvard and Cato, who assigned themselves as her personal guards as often as possible. It wasn't necessary. Her father's first strike had severely damaged Han's spine. He couldn't walk without being in immense pain. His second strike had obliterated Han's left eye, and given him just enough damage to his brain that most days the former commander was struck down with incurable migraines. Riya laughed for the first time in three years when she heard that.

Life became very black and white. There were things she wanted, and things she didn't. When nausea started to grip her and her stomach seemed to swell a little, she stole bleach from the guards' quarters and drank half a litre of it. She lived, barely, but Han's microscopic vermin didn't. She had never been so relieved to bleed. Satisfied, she went back to work in the camp and didn't put herself in trouble. The guards were wary of her now. _That one smiled like a beast when Han was attacked_ , they said, _something cold and evil lives in her eyes_.

She didn't mind the stories. They kept the guards away from her and by extension their hands and mouths.

Riya learned to just exist. She left the job of living for the people who had reasons to.

* * *

 _19th Octava, 4509CC  
(3 years ago)_

When Riya was 18, her cousin Cato, her loving, proud, strong cousin Cato, was beaten to death in front of her.

He had defended a young woman from the same treatment Han had subjected Riya to, and he had been beaten to death for it. Riya picked up a sharp-tipped rock, twisted on her heel and sprinted across the field to her dying cousin. The guards owned guns and knives and other weapons, but Riya owned sprinting. She had spent enough time playing Shoot Straight that she could move from one place to another with remarkable speed.

They never saw her coming. She didn't kill the guard whose head she slammed the sharpened rock into, but she cracked his skull and made him bleed a lot.

They couldn't punish her with death, since she hadn't injured the guard greviously enough to warrant such a measure. Besides, they all resented her. Death was an escape route. They wanted her to suffer.

At noon, three days after Cato's death, they stripped her shirt off, tied her hands to a post above her head, and took to her back with a whip.

The lashes blended together in a haze of pain and dizziness after a while. She watched blood run down her arms and chest as they untied her and shoved her in Nella's direction. Grieving her brother as she might have been, Nella was an attentive carer from beginning to end.

It was just them and Edvard now. Uncle Kjartan, Malene, Niklas, Riya's father Arns, and now Cato. Their band of eight had been reduced to three in just four short years.

About three months after that, the guards announced that some prisoners would be randomly selected to go to another labour camp. Edvard and Nella were both on the list. Riya hugged them both goodbye and resigned herself to dying alone.

* * *

 _3rd Apryl, 4511CC  
(1 year ago)_

Was she supposed to be impressed?

News of rebel victories had buoyed the spirits of everyone in the camp except Riya. Seeing them in person wasn't as liberating as she had expected. Seeing the Union guards who had tormented her for so long dead on the ground was a nice touch, but she didn't feel too bothered by the situation.

So, she was free. Fucking excellent. One of the younger rebels who approached her seemed a little baffled by her reticence and disinterest. He was ushered away, and she found herself looking at a more impressive figure.

A tall woman stood before her, wearing a blood-stained coat. Her hair was a rich shade of silvery grey, and her expression was hardened with years of suffering. It was a familiar expression. Riya wore it daily. The woman extended her hand. Riya took it.

"Thank you for being so patient with us." The woman said. Riya nodded, eying her curiously. The woman smiled. "Forgive me. I am Kommandor Galina Hansen. I would be honoured if you would accompany us out of this shithole."

Riya followed her.

* * *

Lukas looked like he was glad it was over. Riya sat silently, waiting to hear something. She didn't know what. A verdict on her life story?

"Is it okay if I hug you?" he asked, voice wavering. She looked up, and nodded.

She normally didn't like being hugged much, but Lukas was a grounding presence. He was warm and solid and unintrusive despite being pressed up against her.

"If I had only been on Fynkn…I could…I could have stopped it…I could have stopped them…" Riya scoffed, drawing away a little to look him in the eyes.

"Are you a one-man army now? There's nothing you could have done, Lukas, so don't place this blame on yourself." He hesitated, still looking guilty – which was an absurd way to feel, in her opinion – before nodding slowly and separating from her.

They sat there for another few moments, appreciating the golden colour of the sunrise dawning on the horizon. Riya stood first, plucking the blanket off them both and folding it, handing it back to Lukas as he also clambered to his feet.

"Thank you, for telling me." Lukas murmured. Riya shrugged, then, for the first time in a long time, smiled, genuinely.

"Thank you for listening."

They both wandered back inside, going their respective ways to their bunks. It was no more than ten minutes after that, though, that alarms blared all around the room and Kolden barged inside, hollering at them to get up.

Lukas caught Riya's eye from across the room.

She didn't look quite so sad anymore.


	21. The Smell of Trouble

**Hellloooooo! I am conscious that, as I am posting this, it is late at night or early in the morning for almost all of my readers, so sorry for not posting sooner!**

 **RECAP:  
** **\- Riya shared her horrifying life story with Lukas.  
** **\- Inkar and Feliciano are on the move through Bibesti to get to the Citadel and ask for help from the Zephyrak.  
** **\- Uhh yeah idk that there's much else to recap for this one lol**

 **WARNINGS:  
** **\- Some minor sexual references, nothing even remotely explicit though. Some offhand mentions of violence.  
** **\- This could actually be classified as a mild chapter okay damn**

 **Please review! I'll love you forever!**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
5th Juillat_

Yao rubbed at his temples, gazing around in irritation at his subordinates. He respected a lot of the people in this room, but he couldn't really say that he liked a lot of them. The only people here who he found tolerable were Octavia and Mohammed, and they both looked just as worn down and sick of today as he did. It was a dire statement that they were all so fed up with the situation; they had only been here for an hour. He glanced at Octavia, who was writing notes down in a booklet, brow furrowed in what he guessed was concentration and frustration in equal measures. Mohammed was slumped back in his seat, expression vaguely displeased.

Yao sighed. Normally he could deal with meetings like these, as dull and infuriating as they could be at times, but today was proving more difficult than usual.

 _Is everyone here useless?_ He questioned silently. It was honestly starting to feel like he was one of the only people here who actually knew what they were doing. He groaned softly, the noise not going unnoticed by Octavia as he rubbed at his temples with more vigour. This whole debacle was giving him a headache.

It was a relief like none other when the meeting was finally called to a close. He didn't bother remaining to answer questions or discuss strategies with anyone like he normally did. Ignoring the shocked looks on Octavia and Mohammed's faces, he slipped out of the tent and marched off, shaking his head to dispel the low ringing that the meeting had left in his head. He wanted nothing more than to sleep the headache away, but his body was humming with energy. Besides, even with medication, sleeping was still proving a difficult task. He had found himself roused by more scratching and rustling noises, even though he had pulled up the plants nearest to his tent by the roots to prevent the sound. He had no clue what was causing it, or why he couldn't seem to get rid of it. He shook his head a little. He couldn't spend time worrying about all of that right now.

He turned to Octavia, who had been following him at a safe distance. He pointedly ignored the concern that lingered on her face. "Octavia, would you hunt down Captain Kirkland for me, please? I have a few queries to make." She looked puzzled by the request, but nodded, peeling away from his side to find the surly pirate.

He could feel Mohammed's eyes on the back of his neck, and shuddered slightly, before deciding to bite the bullet, turning to him.

"Did you need something, Mohammed?" the Vice-General shook his head, frowning at Yao slightly.

"There's something troubling you," he said gently, "what is it?" Yao frowned, feeling a spike of irritation despite his colleague's well-meant words.

"I'm fine, Mohammed. I don't need people questioning my capacity to lead." Mohammed blinked.

"I wasn't trying to question your capacities, Yao, I was merely saying-"

"I don't care what you were trying to say, Mohammed. You have duties to attend to, do you not?" he didn't miss the momentary shock on the Nymian man's face, but Mohammed kept his mouth shut, nodding neutrally before turning on his heel and marching away. Yao sighed. He had no clue why his temper was so short today, but he couldn't seem to keep his emotions in check like they should be.

Shaking his head a little more violently this time, he set off to the main meeting tent, brain buzzing over what he had to discuss with Arthur Kirkland. He had many plans laid out in his head, and it was time for some of them to come to fruition.

* * *

"So, can you explain why I've been dragged in here?" Arthur asked, tone dull and laced with frustration. He had actually been having a very good morning, until Octavia Papadopoulos had hunted him down and delivered the news that Yao wanted to see him.

First of all, he had woken up beside Alfred, which was proving to be a more delightful experience the more it happened, not least because they had managed to break down the final barrier of physical intimacy between them just the night before. Arthur still was slightly confounded by the fact that Alfred had been so embarrassed to admit that he had never slept with anyone before. As he had been very upfront in telling his boyfriend, what did it matter? In his own personal opinion, as long as you were comfortable and ready, it didn't matter if you lost your virginity at 15 or 50, or even if you lost it at all.

He had wasted no time in teasing Alfred's blushing over their shared nakedness that morning and laughing even more when Alfred's only response had been to make a flustered noise and sink underneath their sheets. Arthur had been quick to tug the sheets down and climb on top of him again, which had resulted in Alfred turning red again, though the cause was not embarrassment, in that instance. That had ended in them both being distracted by the other for close to an hour before Arthur had forced his kiss-bitten and thoroughly relaxed body out of bed and into the shower, insisting to a whining Alfred that _no_ , they could _not_ share to 'save water', given that he actually had things to do that day.

Even getting dressed and hunting down his gear had been a nicer experience than normal. Alfred's possessions had been slowly making their way into Arthur's room ever since they had gotten back from Xi Lan Ey, but it was only that morning that he had realised the split was almost 50/50. It was more accurate to call his room 'theirs' at this rate, and that thought, something which might have once made him scrunch his face up in discomfort, now only made him happy.

After Alfred had insisted on passionately kissing him goodbye, he had been assigned to work in the munitions tent, which had proved entertaining and, dare he say it, _fun_ , especially after a spunky demolitions expert, who had cheerfully introduced himself as Vladimir Popescu, had blown up half his workstation and walked away from the wreckage grinning like a maniac and babbling about improvements while a slight Iramese boy – Kristian, if Arthur remembered right – had doused the area with a fire extinguisher and thoroughly chewed the older boy out. It had made for an interesting morning shift.

After that, despite having missed lunch helping clean up the mess in the munitions tent, Mei and Leon had grabbed food for him, and he had been happy to sit slumped against the trunk with them munching away while Mei told him some more of the jokes that she had learnt from Gilbert and Leon also made a comment about helping the Fynknian princess with her knifework.

Once they had all finished eating, Arthur had been able to do a tour through his old ship, which, while under the custody of the resistance, was getting repairs and improvements made to it. It felt odd seeing the _Mutiny_ under the control of others, but he couldn't deny that his ship was getting a much-needed upgrade. Overall, his day had been a pretty good one, at least until Octavia had come jogging up to him to explain that Yao wanted to talk to him.

He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck as he ran a cautious eye across Yao's face and body. The man was not relaxed, not even remotely. Though his face was oddly void of emotion, a blank slate peppered not even with the usual creases and inclinations that would otherwise indicate what the General was thinking and feeling, his body was tense, every muscle wound up tight enough to snap.

The Yanishman didn't seem to be faring too well, Arthur noted. His eyes were lacklustre and ringed with dark circles that indicated a severe lack of sleep. His skin seemed drawn just a little tighter over the bones of his face than it normally was. Octavia, who had moved to stand by his side, was frowning at him slightly, concern crossing her features before she smoothed her expression back into one of slick professionalism. Yao watched him carefully for a moment, eyes sharp and analytical as ever despite his appearance. He straightened up in his chair a little.

"You are a pirate, Captain Kirkland."

"Oh, well spotted." He snorted, raising an eyebrow. Yao paused, lips pressed together thinly. Arthur let his next jibe die in his throat. The man was clearly not in the mood to play around today.

"As a pirate," he continued after a moment of cold, heavy silence, "you have numerous connections with society's most detested undesirables." He leant forward in his chair slightly. "Other pirates, assassins, slavers and many more. Someone in your position of infamy would most certainly be able to reach out to a large number of acquaintances and connections, I would presume." Arthur shifted slightly, frowning but not denying the statement. It was no lie that his years as one of piracy's most well-known names had led to him establishing business and personal connections with a wide and diverse multitude of people.

"What of it?" he remarked, curious to get to the bottom of what Yao was getting at. Yao watched him for a moment.

"It wouldn't be especially hard for you to ask your contacts for help to locate a particularly hard-to-locate person, would it?" Arthur considered the statement.

"I suppose not, no. We are rather talented at finding wanted people, after all."

Yao nodded. "I see. Sit down, Mr Kirkland." Arthur raised an eyebrow, but complied. This was probably one of the oddest conversations he had had with Yao so far, and he couldn't say that he liked the change very much. Yao hummed softly under his breath before returning his attention to Arthur. "How well acquainted are your contacts with the slave industry?"

Arthur felt his stomach turn over. It had been years since he had had any definitive relationship with the slaving industry, and even then, it was a relationship borne of necessity rather than interest or support. Yet he felt guilty even thinking about the friends he had that actively contributed to the vile trade. The recent reminder of how Mei and Leon had come into his service only deepened the heavy feeling in his gut.

"That depends on what contacts you're inquiring about, but I do know some who are almost constantly involved with it." he answered. Yao nodded slowly, eyeing him before adjusting the cuffs of his gloves and folding his arms.

"Did you know, Mr Kirkland, that we receive about 400 messages a year from people in the slaving industry?" Arthur blinked in surprise and confusion, and Yao smiled sharply. "Not from slavers, of course. From the slaves themselves. We have lost count of how many slaves have come to us asking if a life of servitude and suffering can be exchanged for one of freedom." He looked up. "Every time, we tell them the same thing. Of course it can. It's not easy to free slaves, but it is possible, and we try to do so as much as possible. I grew up in the Union, so slavery was never something that seemed inherently alien to me, but it has never been a pleasant reality for me." He cocked his head a little. "As I understand it, this is reportedly something we can agree on."

Arthur closed his eyes briefly. He had no idea how the information about Mei and Leon had made it's way to Yao's ears so quickly, but he shouldn't have been surprised that it did. He opened them again and fixed them on Yao.

"I've never advocated the slave industry, though I will admit that I did work within it very briefly to afford treatment. I have to ask, what does this have to do with me?" Yao smiled.

"Have you ever heard of Hamide Boushab?" he asked. Arthur scrunched up his nose.

"I lived on Xexei for 4 years. I'm well aware of her, yes." Yao nodded, a small, callous laugh slipping from his lips.

"Ah, yes. Hamide is a nightmare to deal with even among the worst of slavers. She owns and trains in excess of 15,000 of them right now, if my estimates are correct. Do you know anything about her security measures?" sighing slightly, Arthur nodded. Anyone who had even heard of Hamide Boushab in passing knew how careful she was with keeping her wares locked away. "Well," Yao continued, "we received a plea from an anonymous slave who is currently under the jurisdiction of Boushab. Because of those security measures, we do not know their name, age, location or even what planet they are on. They were able to pass a few pieces of information along the lines about their former owners and auctions, but everything else was stringently removed by security censors."

"Boushab is talented at shutting her slaves up." Arthur muttered. Yao nodded.

"Indeed. Now, I would say that this makes it impossible for us to extract this slave and free them, were it not for the fact that most of the auctions they mentioned were attended by pirates. I know that you do not engage with the slave industry except to undermine it's integrity, which I do admire, but many people you know do engage, and frequently enough that they may be able to lend us aid in finding this slave. If we have a location, we can free them."

"So how do I play into this?" Arthur inquired. Yao leant forward again, eyes glittering with that odd, frantic energy that he had been displaying recently.

"Simple. I want you to find contacts of yours who would be able to narrow down this slave's identifier, and by extension, their current owner and where they are being kept. I want you, for at least a while, to really be a pirate again." Arthur frowned a little and leant back in his chair.

"So, what would this entail, exactly?" Yao shrugged.

"Most likely, it would involve finding a contact or two, contacting them and meeting up to ask them to search for this slave, and proposing payment in return." Arthur drummed his fingers on the arms of the chair he had settled into.

"Fine, I'll do it. I make no promises that any of my old acquaintances would be able to find this slave, though." Yao shrugged.

"I won't hold it against you if that is the case. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Kirkland. I will allow you some time to consider it, but do you have any contacts that come to mind at the present moment?"

Arthur didn't even have to think about it. "Barkhado Dirie. She's dealt with the slave industry for years now. She goes to almost every auction there is and sacks cities whenever the opportunity is presented. It would be easy for her to track down a slave like the one you're looking for."

Yao nodded thoughtfully, processing the information. "Do you have any way of contacting her?"

Arthur shrugged. "She usually liked to dance around with me. She was never direct with anyone but Jack. I could make contact with some connections of mine and see when she's next expected to anchor her ship, but there's no point in trying to hunt her down while she's on the move. Her fleet is one of the fastest in the Galaxy. There's a reason she's managed to evade law enforcement for so long. She expects to be swarmed by people whenever she stops somewhere, so she might not be too averse to speaking with me." That was an understatement if Arthur had ever made one. Barkhado had long had an odd interest in him, going out of her way to attempt seduction and friendship in equal measure.

Yao nodded. "I see. Try to find when and where she is next expected to make a stop and report back to me. I will start considering who may make a worthwhile match to go with you." Arthur nodded and stood.

"Is that all, sir?" he asked. Yao nodded.

"It is, though, I must say, formalities don't suit you, do they?" Arthur allowed himself a wry grin. It was true that he tended to screw his face up a little when forced to defer to others. Yao smiled softly, shaking his head. "If we are to be on tolerable terms, just Yao will do." Arthur nodded. Yao's grin widened. "And given that in the circumstances, I am your superior, I will permit myself to simply call you 'Arthur'. Constantly saying 'Mr Kirkland' is getting rather exhausting, I must say." Arthur rolled his eyes, but in a good-natured way. He didn't really care what the man called him, and he was just glad to not have to simper anymore. Yao dismissed him and he marched from the tent feeling a little less drained than he usually did after talks with the General.

He hadn't spoken to Barkhado in a while, but, as mad as she could be, a part of him was eager to reconnect with the industry that had kept him alive for the last six years. His friends were inherently bad people, but he was hardly better than they were. It would be nice to catch up with someone of his own moral standing for once. He cared about Alfred, he really did, but the boy really was too kind for him.

* * *

 _Ta Cïtadel twrali Tapsiris Jel (Citadel for the Order of the Wind)  
Tamyir District, Bibesti, Rela,_ _  
6th Juillat_

Every second she spent with Feliciano Vargas was tense and heavy with the distrust and resentment that the prince felt towards her, and she wished that she could find a reason to fault his feelings. The truth was, though, Inkar didn't think that she had the right to consider the boy to be in the wrong anymore. She had done irrevocable damage; that was why she had sworn to help him reclaim his captured brother in the first place.

Inkar regretted ever taking an interest in the pair, and regretted even further her decision to seek them out. Even in the earlier days of her search, she had made mistakes that had lead the brothers closer and closer to danger. It was shortly after Lovino Vargas had been plucked from the street that one of her brothers-in-arms, Nizyan, had admitted to sharing information with Union soldiers that she had mentioned in Maarch. She had sensed the burning fire that dwelled within them both while on Incanda, and mentioned it to him not long after. He had gone to the Union authorities who were concerned by such matters, and not even a week later, the profiles of all five royal heirs to the Free Court thrones had seen a 10-billion-mark increase each in their going rate.

It made her sick to her stomach. Even when her mission had been concerned with helping rather than harming, she had brought pain and anxiety to the pair. She didn't have the strength to admit to Feliciano that this indiscretion, too, was her fault. She had aggrieved him too extenstively already.

The prince kept his face carefully blank and seemed more concerned with the concealment of his vibrant hair than he did addressing what horrors his brother might be suffering, but Inkar knew better than to be deceived by all his outward appearances. He was suffering, mourning as if his brother were already dead. And it made sense to her that he should. They were, from what brief glimpses she had caught into their relationship, extraordinarily close. Had it not been for the context and history on which their bond was built, and the body language they had used with one another, Inkar may have in another situation misconstrued the relationship as an inappropriate and sexual one. It wasn't obviously, but their familiarity was extensive enough that one might make such a mistake.

Inkar shook her head. She had hoped that proximity with the younger Vargas brother may slowly blunt his resentment of her, but their days of slow travel through the ravaged lower districts had been plagued by silence and more coldness than she had expected a boy made of flames to be capable of. She did not deserve his kindness or consideration, this she knew, but his continued detestment of her had served as a useful tool to continually beat down what self-regard she had. In her mission to protect Rela, she had inexcuseably harmed members of the family that had once been family in all but blood to her ancestors. It was criminal.

She was pulled from her thoughts as they turned down another corner and onto a wider street. They had entered the Tamyir District yesterday, which, though still sacked by the pirates, had not been as extensively ruined as Szwicza, Kirkos and Calmas had. Tamyir sat almost at the very centre of Bibesti, and was a district of almost perfect middle ground. It held neither the high houses and wealthy politicians of districts like Veroda, Sinnë and Dalk, but also was not plagued by the rife murder, rape and assault characteristic of Szwicza and Kirkos. It was a district of labourers and honest people, and best represented the average demographics of Rela. It was for this, and it's central position, that it had been chosen as the home of the Zephyrak.

She and Feliciano had been attracting more and more attention the deeper they went into the district, and the closer they came to the Citadel. Well, Feliciano had been attracting attention. He tended to trail after her a little, close enough to keep her in his line of sight and follow her path to their shared goal, but not so close that it was immediately identifiable that they were travelling together. He had a much rougher appearance than those of Tamyir, and it was clear that he didn't belong. Normally, the people here would not make comments, no matter how dirty or disparaged a person appeared, but the sole exception to that was Szwiczans. They spoke a different way, walked a different way, even surveyed the terrain in a different way to everyone else in Bibesti, and everyone here knew what that looked like.

He drew unease and alarm from the people he passed, less for the dirt on his face and the knife strapped to his belt than for the dark look on his features, and the sharp readiness in his stance. He was a fighter, and everyone could see it. Most fighters in this city came from one place.

Inkar glanced over her shoulder at him just as someone standing on the side of the road stepped up to him and grasped his arm. She came to a complete halt, immediately turning as Feliciano reflexively tried to yank his arm free of the stranger's grip. The man tightened his grip, and Inkar watched in baffled horror as several others stepped closer to him, frowning.

"You aren't from here, are you?" the man asked. Feliciano frowned, tugging his arm more insistently. The prince was fierce enough, despite his gentle temperament, to have pulled free on a normal day, but Inkar knew he was not at his best. He was tired of walking, weak from a lack of food and worn down by anxiety over his brother. She shook herself and marched forward.

"Yeah? Sue me." Feliciano said, though the phrase came out as more defensive than angry due to the wide, worried set of his eyes.

"We don't welcome criminals here. You violence-mongers can stay back in Szwicza. Our district is healing right now. We don't need anyone to slow that process down." Feliciano stared at the man, something like anger flickering briefly over his face before he resumed his efforts at freeing his arm.

"Sér." She said, stepping closer to him. "Unhand him." The man swivelled, and, upon sighting her uniform, immediately released Feliciano.

"Apologies, my viscount." He said, bowing his head in deference. "I only wished to safeguard Tamyir from further damage." Inkar tilted her chin up a little.

"You make many assumptions about him, Sér. He is here because I inflicted damage upon his own person and the person of his brother. He is here by my will and invitation, so I may correct a wrong of my own doing. He holds no fault." Feliciano blinked at her. The man looked a little surprised, but bowed his head again.

"I see. Forgive me for my rashness, my viscount." He turned to Feliciano, and bowed again. "Forgive my harshness and prejudiced mind, stranger. I did not mean any personal harm or offence." Feliciano looked a little taken off guard, but just shook his head and murmured an acceptance of the apology. The man stepped away, bowed again and slipped back through the crowd. Inkar watched him until he had disappeared into the crowd, then pivoted and continued to move in the direction of the Citadel.

"You really have sway with them." Feliciano murmured, stepping up to walk beside her for once. Inkar shrugged.

"We safeguard them. They show us respect for our service to them, though we ask no reward in return." Feliciano hummed.

"You and your comrades being the descendants of Rela's old royals probably doesn't hurt their view of you either." She inclined her head, but didn't respond verbally to the statement. They continued to walk, until the street widened out further, finally exposing a vast building. The Citadel. Inkar felt some of the tension in her bones easing, and cast a look towards Feliciano to see his reaction. He looked impressed. Regardless of his well-warranted ill-will towards her, the Citadel was one of Rela's most striking sites for a reason.

It was huge, built of massives swathes of white chalcedony and coastally-harvested sandstone. The Citadel's main structure, a gargantuan, circular building, was surrounded by smaller, circular rooms with blue domed roofs. Massive towers constructed of sandstone were dotted around the premises, each of them standing higher than the lower buildings of the Citadel.

She strode across the busy marketplace sprawled over the open dais in front of the Citadel, not slowing her step as she and Feliciano moved towards the entrance. The massive doors, constructed she knew of a dark red teak wood, swung open of their own volition as she stepped up to them. A gentle breeze from within lifted the loose hairs from her face and brushed some of the dust from her uniform. Smiling for the first time in days, she led the prince inside.

The entrance hall was as impressive as ever; a huge, circular room with an extravagantly tiled floor and walls adorned with alcoves. The ceiling, high and domed, was decorated with vivid paintings of Rela's history. She saw Feliciano looking up at the ceiling in her peripheral vision, and she braced herself as the gentle breeze dancing across her skin fell still and stagnant.

"Inkar." A cool voice echoed out. "You bring a visitor." She frowned a little. Of all the people who could have come to greet her at the gates, Zubaira would not have been her first choice. Her sister-in-arms was frowning, her too-pretty face filled with displeasure as she surveyed Feliciano. Zubaira tossed her head back a little, her short hair shifting slightly with the movement. She eyed Inkar. "Do explain yourself, sister, before I have Mother Aimira called down here." Inkar bristled a little.

"I made a mistake, one which has dearly cost this young man. I aim only to live by the principles preached by our forefathers, and lend assistance where possible in order to amend my idiocy." Zubaira hesitated, and Inkar could see that she had caught the other girl's attention. The older Zephyrak examined Feliciano again.

"Normally, sister, lending aid does not extend to allowing a _basqa_ inside our most sacred space." Inkar stiffened slightly, Basqa. _Other_. Zubaira knew that Feliciano wasn't Relusian. She levelled a look at her sister.

"These are extenuating circumstances." She said. Zubaira frowned, then twitched her fingers slightly. A sharp, cold wind whipped through Inkar's hair, and she heard it rattle through the alcoves, producing a low, hollow sound. Inkar gritted her teeth. Zubaira shrugged apologetically.

"Mother Aimira should be informed of this." She said by way of explanation.

Inkar sighed as Feliciano shot her a bewildered look. She should have known it was coming. She herself had been taught to always call upon the Zephyrak Supreme if anything seemed amiss. Zubaira was only doing her sworn duty. Luckily for them, Mother Aimira was hardly known for her tardiness. Within three minutes of Zubaira summoning her, the intimidating woman was entering the entrance hall from one of the side doors, expression furrowed as she approached.

"Ahh, Zubaira, Inkar. I see why I was summoned." She cast a curious look at Feliciano, but turned back to her underlings. "Kindly explain the situation." Inkar gave her essentially the same spiel she had just given Zubaira. Mother Aimira hummed, looking over Feliciano with a small frown on her face. "I will say, child. We do not appreciate coverings meant to conceal unless they are worn for personal or religious reasons. If that cap is not so firmly attached to your scalp for either reason, kindly remove it." Feliciano narrowed his eyes, before glancing at Inkar. She nodded gently, and he pulled the dark wool beanie off, exposing the vibrant red of his hair.

Zubaira sucked in a breath behind her, and Mother Aimira nodded slightly. "I see. There is a little more to this situation that you initially made clear. In what way did you wrong this boy?" Inkar hung her head slightly.

"My actions resulted in his brother being captured by some of the pirates sacking the city, Mother Aimira. They were the only company that the other had in the whole world. I seek to help him find his brother and amend the separation that I forced upon them." Mother Aimira scrutinised Feliciano as she continued speaking to Inkar.

"Whatever possessed you to act in such a way that he and his brother were separated?" she inquired, glancing briefly at Inkar before continuing her examination of Feliciano. Inkar flinched.

"I believed that they may pose a threat to the safety of Rela and her people. I attempted to exterminate them after they refused to leave the planet." She said. "I was incorrect and deeply misguided, and I apologise for such foolishness." Mother Aimira turned her gaze back on Inkar.

"The fact of his ethnicity makes this whole situation a lot harder to swallow. Normally, I would be wholeheartedly in favour of your practising the values of the Citadel, and lending him aid, however, such an action would put you at great risk. Syhvvanians are not looked upon kindly in many parts of the Galaxy." Inkar bowed her head.

"I know, Mother Aimira. I am aware of the risks, but I am prepared to take them."

Mother Aimira shook her head. "I don't know if I can allow you to do this to yourself, Inkar. You are among our very best. I would hate to see such talent and skill squandered." Inkar bristled.

"Squandered? Mother Aimira, were Syhvvanians not once our brothers and sisters through the bond shared by our ruling houses? It was the same bond that Daerna, Syhvva and Fynkn still share and I refuse to believe that I should not at the very least owe the same duty to them as I do to Rela's own people." Mother Aimira sighed.

"Times have changed, Inkar. The Free Courts are not the same as they were 200, 50 or even 10 years ago. Rela is not the same either." Inkar felt desperation bubbling up in her chest. She silently cast a look at Feliciano, wordlessly asking him a question. The easing of the crease between his brows answered the unspoken question for her, and she stepped forward and took Mother Aimira's hand.

"Please, Mother Aimira. He is deserving of my aid. I cannot in good conscience turn my back on him." Mother Aimira shook her head and pulled her hand free of Inkar's hold. She stepped forward, towards Feliciano, with an apologetic look on her face.

"I'm sorry, young man, but I will not risk one of the Ahkmetov family's most powerful descendants for a cause so dangerous." She turned to go, but as she did, Feliciano reached out and grabbed her wrist.

"Wait, please-" he murmured, eyes pained. Mother Aimira stopped dead in her tracks, shifting her arm so that she and Feliciano were gripping one another's wrists. Her grip tightened, and her eyes widened. She stared at him, maintaining eye contact for a long moment before abruptly releasing him. She was silent for a moment.

"Very well. Inkar, you may lend him any aid you see fit, and provide whatever services the Citadel has dominion over to aid you." Zubaira blinked in shock as Inkar bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Mother Aimira." She said, gratitude painting her words. Zubaira straightened up, looking bewildered.

"Mother Aimira, you cannot just-" she started, only to be cut off.

"Rela has broken faith with Syhvva's people in the past, many times. We stood by idly as they were invaded and pillaged during the Expansion, it is true. We have neglected the common people of Syhvva many a time and shall do it consistently into the future, I suspect. But let it never be said that we have neglected those who were once our brothers." She turned and eyed Feliciano, Inkar and Zubaira. "The common man on Syhvva is not our brother or sister, Inkar. I shall break faith with them. But the House of Ahkmetov held a bond forged over three millennia with their royal family. I shall never allow it to be said that I have neglected the needs of the Vargas family." She made eye contact with Feliciano. "The resources of the Citadel are yours to use as necessary, your majesty. Knowledge of your presence shall not become known outside these walls, that I can promise you. Inkar, serve him well." Without another word on the matter, Mother Aimira turned and marched back through the way she had come, leaving three people in varying states of astonishment behind her.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
8th Juillat_

Feliks watched the ladybug carefully make it's way over his leg, navigating a tricky route over a twisting scar that skirted around his knee, and slowly make it's way up to his thigh. He gently placed his thumb in it's path and watched it pause, consider whether or not to climb his finger, and eventually decide against it, turning around to move the other way. He watched it absently crawl back down his leg, navigating the forest of hairs before it scuttled onto his bare feet. It tickled a little, but he willed himself to be still. He had been watching it flitter around the room and explore his leg for over two hours now. If that wasn't a testament to his complete and utter boredom, he really didn't know what was.

Vash had joined in his absent observation of the ladybug, looking equally as despondent and vaguely suicidal as Feliks felt. They exchanged a glance as the ladybug departed Feliks' foot and landed on the windowsill. Feliks would have laughed at the utterly deadened look in Vash's eyes if he didn't feel – and probably look – exactly the same way. He sighed, tipping his head back against the wall. Entertainment was hard to come by nowadays in their little prison, and their previously steady but subtle descent into depression had taken a nosedive. Francis didn't even bother getting out of bed most days, and even Antonio's seemingly endless cheer and good spirit had been ravaged by months of incarceration. Feliks shook his head. They would have more to do if they were just in a regular prison, and he couldn't say that he wouldn't welcome the change.

The sound of footsteps down the hall had them all sitting up and blinking in awareness. The only thing that was able to rouse them all from their fatigued states was visitors. Whether it was one of the rebels stopping by to deliver recent intergalactic news or one of their friends giving them an update on their new endeavours, anyone whose face Feliks didn't spend endless hours staring at was welcome. A part of him wished that it was Tori coming to visit. Her presence was always the one that managed to brighten his day the most, and who kept him from falling back into his depressed funk for the longest. She had stopped by just two days ago, though, and he knew he couldn't be so lucky as to expect her back so soon.

His deduction was correct, and though it wasn't the feisty Daernic princess he had grown so fond of, he still grinned like a maniac. Gilbert's face would always be welcome. It seemed odd to think back on how frequently they used to fight and bicker amongst themselves. Feliks usually found himself missing the obnoxious albino's presence in the cell with them. He missed the jokes and the casual way that he managed to flirt with and insult people in the same sentence. He had become hyper-aware of people in the last few months, and so it only took Feliks a few seconds to notice the bandage wrapped around one of Gilbert's hands. He raised an eyebrow after returning the Incandan's greeting.

"What happened to your hand?" he inquired. Gilbert blinked, grinning sheepishly as he glanced at his hand.

"Oh, yeah, I was trying to fix an engine with a fucked up cooling system, and I accidentally brushed up against part of it that was red-fucking-hot, so yeah, burns ensued." Feliks winced in sympathy, ignoring Antonio and Francis' simultaneous snorts of derision. Gilbert rolled his eyes. "My hand was bandaged the last time I was here, too, you know. You're all just unobservant dumbasses." Feliks laughed.

"In our defence, the last time you were here, things got very dramatic very quickly." Feliks noted Francis' wince in the corner of his eye. Gilbert gave a shrewd grin, also evidently recalling Leon's angry tirade and the very unwelcome revelation that he and Mei used to be slaves. Feliks decided to steer the conversation away from the topic. Francis hated the slave industry with a passion unlike that which Feliks had ever seen. Knowing that he had accused a former slave of supporting a slave driver was probably a bitter pill for him.

"Have they had you excused from work ever since, then?" Feliks asked, nodding to his hand. Gilbert laughed, shaking his head.

"Ugh, I wish. Nah, they've given me a break from working on ships for the next few weeks, though. I've been working on some more finnicky projects since then." Feliks knew the shine in Gilbert's eyes very well; it appeared whenever the albino stumbled upon something of interest to him, something he saw as worthy of consuming his attention for a considerable amount of time.

"Anything interesting in particular?" Gilbert jumped at the opportunity to elaborate.

"Hell yeah! One of the mechanics works almost exclusively on bionic and mechanical prosthetics, and she's been showing me how they work! She's trying to refine their nerve-allocation models right now, but they're still really upmarket; more refined and effective than most other ones you could get." Feliks nodded, looking at Gilbert with interest.

"Nerve-allocation models? What the hell are those?" Antonio piped up, looking legitimately curious. Gilbert's grin widened even more, and he looked like he was legitimately trying to stop himself from bouncing up and down.

"They link the receptors in the bionic model into your actual nerve endings in whatever limb got severed. They respond to the electrical impulses and move like a regular arm or leg would. You can't feel it, of course, but you can control it as well as a normal limb. They're ridiculously expensive on the normal markets, but here they're made for anyone who wants them and was unfortunate enough to lose a limb." Feliks blinked in surprise. He didn't know much about bionic limbs, but he could assume that it was an arduous and complex process to make them, especially the specific models that Gilbert was so enamoured. To give them out for free was a surprising move, but he supposed that it only made sense that the resistance would want to keep their most capable fighters battle-ready, even if they had lost a limb.

"Damn," Francis let out a low whistle, "that's impressive." Gilbert nodded enthusiastically.

"Mhmm. And the bionic engineers told me that I can start learning how to make them soon, if I'm interested in it. It's a real delicate process, but since I know both biology and technology, they think I could have a talent for it." Feliks smiled, glad to hear that his friend was having his skills recognised properly by the rebels.

"Well, if I ever get one of my limbs ripped off, I'll come to you for a replacement." Feliks quipped. Gilbert grinned.

"Yeah, you do that. Anyway, enough about that," Gilbert said, moving off the topic even though it was clear he could have gone on about it all day, "how are you guys doing?"

Feliks shrugged. "Well, Vash and I watched a ladybug crawl over my leg for two hours, so."

Gilbert looked like he didn't know what to do with that statement. Vash elaborated for him.

"We're dying of boredom and I'm just about ready to slit my wrists." The assassin said, tone dull and gaze flat. Gilbert flinched at that, his cheerfulness evaporated. Feliks would have cursed the loss of his friend's happiness, but it was the truth. It would have been blatantly false to imply that they were all doing fine and enjoying themselves in here.

"You know I wish that I could do something, but…"

"But that power rests with that asshole Yao, I know." Feliks sighed. "Don't worry about it, Gilbert, there isn't much you can do for us right now."

"That is true, but I can, so perhaps stop insulting my boss." A voice said from behind Gilbert. They all jumped in surprise as Tino Väinämoïnen materialised from behind the albino, looking mildly amused at their expressions of surprise, shock and confusion. The sniper gave them a lopsided but charming grin, and moved forward to join Gilbert in front of the bars of their cell. He crouched down to be on their level.

"What do you mean?" Roderich inquired, eyeing the blond distrustfully. Väinämoïnen grinned.

"Well, Yao has recognised that being cooped up for some long with no reprieve is taking a serious toll on you all, so he's decided that, for two hours a day, if you so choose, you will be allowed outside. Of course," he held up a hand as some of them leapt to their feet in shock and excitement, "you are going to make yourselves useful. You can act as sparring partners for some of our younger and more inexperienced trainees, and against each other, if you so wish."

They all stared at him silently, wondering if the offer was really good enough to be true. Väinämoïnen cocked his head to the side. "So? You want in or not?"

They all nodded enthusiastically. The sniper nodded once to himself, looking satisfied. "Good. Now, we know it's been a long time since you were out of your cell," that was an understatement, "but we can't in good faith let you all out at once. We don't know if you're going to be well behaved enough to manage. Five of you can come today, and the other five can go tomorrow. You can decide among yourselves who gets to go first." He stood up straight. "Do hurry up. I'll give you a few minutes but I don't like waiting too long."

Feliks turned to the others, all of whom looked a little shocked and surprised. Only five of them would be allowed to go this afternoon. He sighed, feeling his stomach sink. He was willing to stay in this hell of a prison for another day if it meant his friends could experience sun on their skin and fresh air quicker.

Talking seemed to erupt between them all at the exact same moment, before being cut short a moment later when someone shouted over the rest of them.

"Everyone shut the fuck up!" Natalya shouted, looking pleased when everyone slammed their mouths shut and turned to face her. "We are not going to argue like children about who gets to go out first. In my opinion, it's obvious." She surveyed them all. "There are people in here who have suffered far more from being stuck inside so long than others. Take that into account instead of your own selfishness." She tilted her chin up. "I don't give a shit who the other two are, but in my opinion, Feliks, Vash and Francis should all go." The three she mentioned stared at her. She shrugged standoffishly. "It bothers you three a lot, being stuck in here. It's fucking obvious."

No-one really wanted to fight Natalya, so a series of low murmurs of agreement filtered through the room. Feliks' weak protests were shot down viciously by Natalya's glare, and he sat back, silent and willing to accept his fate.

In the end, it was somehow worked out that Feliks, Vash, Francis, Louise and Berwald would all go first, with Natalya, Antonio, Roderich, Yael and Eduard going tomorrow. Antonio didn't seem upset by not leaving at the same time as the rest of his crew, and just shrugged, wishing them well as they were herded out of the cell by Väinämoïnen and another two rebels they recognised – Kari and Nelia were their names, Feliks was pretty sure.

Feliks hadn't spent too much time on his feet recently, and he winced as his knees and ankles cracked unsettlingly as he walked. He rolled his shoulders as he was ushered towards the exit. He felt his heartrate accelerate a little as, for the first time in three months, he was able to step outside.

It was afternoon, so the ground wasn't scorching hot like it would have been in the morning. His toes dug into the hard-packed red dirt a little, and he took in a deep breath, inhaling sharply as fresh air filtered through his mouth and lungs. A gentle breeze was sweeping across the plains where the rebel camp was, and Feliks could have sobbed for how good it felt on his skin. The sky was a deep, blue-mauve colour, and though it wasn't like the skies of Pyndaph and Reycass that he was more used to, it still made his mouth stretch into a wide smile. The warmth on his skin made his breath stutter. Sunlight hadn't touched his skin properly in months. He saw Väinämoïnen shake his head a little.

"I know it's nice to finally be outside again, but come on, you need to move." The gentle pressure of the sniper's hand on his back finally forced his legs into motion. They followed the blond through the camp, looking around in curiosity and amazement at the rebels at work. Eventually, they came to a large, seemingly circular wall made of brick and wood. It was about twenty metres high, with a large set of doors to enter. The rebels ushered them inside. Feliks blinked in surprise. It was an arena, clearly designed to act as a training ground which could also provide a measure of privacy. They weren't the only ones there; he could see a group of people standing a fair way away, talking amongst themselves. The restraints that the rebels had tied loosely around his wrists was removed, and he rubbed the raw spots as he glanced around. Before his head even had time to snap to the right, however, he found the barrel of a gun pressed against his throat.

Glancing sideways in sharp panic, he froze when he saw the cold Yanishman – Yao – standing there calmly, rifle in his hands and finger brushing gently along the trigger. The other four had noticed his situation and fallen silent, all looking frightened and wary. Francis looked ready to pounce on the man and attack him. Feliks swallowed. Yao smiled.

"Keep in mind that you are here out of our good will. We are making the decision to trust you with giving you some free time outside. If you step out of line, you will pay for it, understand?" they all nodded, albeit Feliks did so very cautiously. Yao nodded, then lowered his rifle and slung it across his back, waving a hand. "Good. Enjoy yourselves." He said, marching out of the arena. Feliks gently massaged the place that the gun had been pressing into his skin, sharing a bewildered look with the others before turning to look at the people that they would apparently be helping to train.

He spotted one of the people from before rushing over to them, but as they got closer, his lingering anxiety vanished. Even with the very recent threat on his life hanging over his head, Feliks could do little but grin as Tori ran towards him and jumped up, wrapping her arms around him in a proper hug. He huffed out a laugh and reciprocated the gesture, praying that his weary body would not betray exactly how touch-starved he had become in the last few months. Tori bounced backwards, throwing him a dazzling smile before moving to hug the others. He smiled again, looking at the others of the group. Arthur, Mei, Leon, Elizabeta and Emilia Bondevik seemed to be the ones who they were being put up against. He raised an eyebrow. None of them exactly struck him as being inexperienced or in need or extra training.

"I demand a rematch." He heard Väinämoïnen say behind him. He turned to see the sniper jabbing a long staff at Berwald, eyes narrowed. Berwald looked perplexed by this.

"But you won." The blond smiled sinisterly.

"Yes, but you got a good hit in, which never happens. Come on, rematch big guy." Berwald still looked confused, but followed him anyway. Feliks grinned. That would surely be an interesting match. He saw Arthur eye Francis sharply for a moment before turning to Vash and asking if he would like to spar. Mei skipped over to Francis just a moment later to ask if he would like to fight with her. Leon had paired up with Emilia Bondevik, and looked a little cowed at the idea of fighting the fierce-seeming Fynknian. A tap on his shoulder made him turn. Tori grinned at him.

"I hope you aren't too rusty?" Feliks grinned, winking at her.

"I'm still good enough to give you a real fight." He challenged, mimicking her as she shifted into a combat stance.

* * *

"Admittedly, I was not expecting this to be your first move." Octavia said as she and Yao watched the pairs fight. Yao shrugged, eyes roving over the group, lingering pointedly on their captives.

"The game I'm playing with them is a very delicate one, Octavia." He said. "If I move too quickly, they'll realise what my motive is and turn away, but if I give them liberties, bit by bit, integrate them gradually enough that it seems natural all the while fostering sympathy for our cause among them…"

"You may be able to recruit them all instead of killing them." Octavia finished. "It's a bold move, Yao, and a very risky one at that."

"Dear Octavia, everything we do here is bold and risky. I'd rather not execute ten innocent people but I will do so if I am unsuccessful. But it would be rather defeatist to not even _try_ to get them on our side, don't you think?"

Octavia hummed. "I suppose so. You are the boss, so if you're willing to try, then I'll follow you."

Yao nodded, smiling slightly. "I'm glad to hear that I'll have your support. This won't be an easy endeavour, but I feel like this group could be useful to us."

"Let's hope that you're right."


	22. Almost a Stranger

**Helloooooo, I am back once more with another update for y'all. Fair warning, I'm not going to be posting a chapter next week for 2 reasons; 1: It isn't finished yet (rip) and 2: I won't have time to finish it, or write at all, because I have finals soon and I need to study. I love you guys and I love this story, but my education comes first.**

 **RECAP:  
** **\- Yao asked Arthur to exploit his connections in the world of piracy to help him locate a slave seeking freedom. Arthur plans to ask for the help of Barkhado Dirie.  
** **\- Inkar and Feliciano finally arrived at the Citadel and were permitted to use whatever resources they need by Mother Aimira. Aimira told another Zephyrak about Feliciano's identity, but had sworn not to let the information leave the Citadel.  
** **\- The bounty hunters and pirates still imprisoned by the resistance were given time outside their cell by the rebels, as Yao's plan to lure them over to their side falls into motion.**

 **WARNINGS:  
** **\- Nothing really that comes to mind. Some mentions of violence and some swearing (as always lol)**

 **I'll be back in two weeks with some good content so please be patient with me! Wish me luck on my finals!**

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
10th Juillat_

"Have you checked your allocations yet?" Matthias panted as he ducked away from Riya, biting back a curse when her knife almost sliced right through his eyebrow. She frowned slightly, shaking her head as she stepped back, spinning the sharp blade in her hands.

"Not yet, no. I don't think it really matters." She said nonchalantly. "I'm not overly bothered about where I get assigned, as long as I can do some good." He nodded as he fell back into a defensive stance. They had been paired up and told to work on defending themselves while unarmed and facing someone with a weapon. He had managed to avoid getting slashed by Riya so far, and he didn't really want to break his lucky streak. He envied that she could afford to be so blasé about where she was assigned after training. Unlike Riya, he didn't really get to choose where he went. Yao had been rather blunt about the fact that he needed to get assigned to wherever Bondevik was assigned, since his whole purpose here was to protect the guy.

He ducked again as Riya sliced at his head, lashing out with his foot and striking her solidly in the abdomen. She wheezed, and, recognising the sound of air being forced out of someone's lungs, took the opportunity to slam his elbow into the side of her head, knocking her to the ground. She groaned, rubbing at the spot as she dropped the knife and raised her hands in a surrendering gesture.

"Oww, okay, I yield." Matthias grinned apologetically and offered her a hand, which she accepted. He pulled her to her feet and took a moment to breathe as she dusted snow off her uniform, looking mildly disgruntled. He wouldn't have pinned her as the sort of person that he would enjoy talking to, but here he was. Matthias had noted a profound change in her behaviour in the last few days. The slump in her shoulders wasn't so heavy; like she had freed herself of a large weight. She had spoken up more and even offered a witty comment when one of their overseer officers had made an error. She had even deigned to speak to Matthias more, too, which he appreciated. Riya had a dry sense of humour, but none of Bondevik's haughtiness to accompany it. She was, by Matthias' excellent deduction, cool. He didn't mind her company, and was glad to see that she didn't seem to mind his either.

Riya had been very graceful in gently correcting some parts of his Fynknian grammar that were rusty or a little rudimentary. He was grateful to her for that; he knew that his vocabulary wasn't as volumous as it could be; he had only learned the language to accommodate the needs of a small child, of course, so it made sense that he wasn't totally up to date. She was an excellent teacher, not minding in the slightest when he asked her to repeat a word or clarify his pronunciation.

But if she seemed to enjoy his company at times, Riya seemed to also go out of her way to seek out Bondevik. They had spent a lot of time together recently; that was only the real reason why Matthias had started to get to know her – by proxy. He didn't care in the slightest, but he couldn't deny that he was curious about why they had suddenly become so inseparable, but it wasn't his business, and he liked to think that he had more than learnt his lesson about getting to the bottom of a personal matter when Bondevik was involved. The memory of his own sharp words concerning the prince's parents made him cringe. He had been forgiven, for which he was very grateful, but he doubted that he had ever said something more insensitive and offensive in his life. This planet was really messing with him.

Matthias could have sworn that both he and Riya breathed a sigh of relief when Sergeant Kolden ordered them to stop fighting. He threw her a grin, and felt his mood lift when she responded in kind, albeit only slightly. Whatever it was that had made her happier and freer with her thoughts, he was happy for her. They collected the various weapons that they had been practicing with and dumped them into the huge barrels that the Sergeant had indicated.

"Any of you who don't know your first allocations, check them now!" Kolden roared over the rabble. Riya rolled her eyes, but jerked her head in the direction of the allocations board in a motion that said _come with me?_

Matthias nodded and drifted after her as she shoved her way through the crowd. The odd fascination and borderline fear that most people here had of Riya remained, even with her more sociable and friendly behaviour. He couldn't help but roll his eyes at them. Yeah, she was a stoic badass, but she was also only human. He had seen some similar reactions to Bondevik, but something told him that that was an instinctual reaction. He had crazy-ass powers that could kill everyone here no problem, from what he had heard, so it was unsurprising that the guy gave off an aura of danger.

Riya was humming, running her finger down the listings until she located her name. She frowned, peeling away from the board and nodding at Matthias. He squeezed out of the crowd, staggering a little in the slushy snow before righting himself.

They had been allocated a partner who was to be their sparring match for their final examinations. They would have to perform about three fights each, each of which would be determined based on their skills and ability level. The way they performed in these fights would determine where they would go after their training was over. It was the difference between being marked as a common soldier and becoming an esteemed member of a guerrilla squad. The distinction was more important to some people than others, but there were enough people who cared that meant the fight to get into a squad would be a bloody one. It was the goal of most people in Block A, and most Block D trainees weren't expected to ever get close. It was a little grating, but he supposed that the trainees had been divied up for a reason.

"Good or bad?" he asked. Riya tilted her head slightly.

"Gori Halsif." She said simply. "He's an underfed runt of a guy. I should be fine. I never asked, who are you up against first?"

Matthias winced, grinning guiltily. "Ansel. I don't wanna insult the guy but…"

"You'll win easily." Riya finished, raising an eyebrow. "That isn't insulting. I've seen him fight, it's fact." Matthias sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I mean…yeah, it's true, but that doesn't mean you should say it." he muttered. Riya raised her eyebrows again, looking amused before moving past him.

"Whatever you say. Come on, I need your help with something." Frowning in confusion, he followed her.

* * *

"I fail to see how I can help here." Matthias muttered to Riya, frowning as he watched Bondevik pace around the abandoned training ground. "Or why." Riya gave him a pointed look. It was the sort of expression that communicated a sentiment similar to _holy shit you are so stupid why do I even bother_ , which he did not appreciate much. He scowled right back, and she rolled her eyes. For whatever reason, Riya had decided that this conversation was conducted best while they were crouching behind a large stack of boxes, looking for all the world like a pair of _complete fucking weirdos_.

"He's stressed out about getting a guerrilla squad, even though I think he'll be completely fine. Just tell him what I've been trying to drill into his head for the last two days." He looked at her incredulously.

"What in the system makes you think that he's going to listen to _me_? Especially if he's been ignoring _you_." The prince seemed to be much closer friends with Riya. He and Matthias barely got along well. They were getting better now, sure, but he would hardly call them friends. Riya frowned.

"Well, for one, he does actually listen to what you have to say, despite all appearances to the contrary, and, well, you've known him longer than I have, haven't you?"

"Well, yeah, by like a few days. We met right before we left the resistance, so it's not too significant a difference. I don't know why everyone is under the assumption that we've known each other way longer."

Riya raised her eyebrow – she really did love doing that, didn't she? "Probably because you two spend a lot of time together even though your personalities are almost completely opposite to one another and you fight every ten seconds?" Matthias snapped his mouth shut. He could hardly explain that he was almost literally contractually fucking obligated to stay in Bondevik's vicinity, because that would just open up a whole new line of questioning.

"He's the only other person here from the resistance. It's nice to talk to someone who isn't entirely in the Fynknian rebel mindset. And to talk to someone who knows that temperatures above 0°C exist." Riya rolled her eyes – another habit of hers.

"Well I guess I understand that. In all honesty, though, that isn't the conclusion that most other people seem to have drawn." Matthias blinked.

"I'm sorry, people have already drawn conclusions about us? Do explain."

"I thought we were here to talk to Lukas."

"Well that can wait. You can't drop something like that on me and then not answer me, so come on, _explain_." Riya gave him a look, the one that indicated it was something that she clearly thought he should know. He bristled internally. Why was everyone here faster on the uptake than he was? It was starting to get very irritating.

"You really can't figure it out?" she said. He gave her a blank look, and Riya sighed. "You're both hopeless. Honestly. You're both young, rather attractive and only a few years apart in age. You spend a lot of time together even though your personalities don't seem to be compatible _at all_." He waited another moment for her to finish, which she clearly wanted to do despite the exasperation on her face. "Oh my saints, everyone here thinks you two are fucking."

Matthias blinked. "Oh. Ah, okay then." It made sense, in a twisted way. "I mean, incorrect, but I can kinda see where people would get that impression." Riya sighed.

"Yeah, no shit."

"We aren't, though."

"Thanks for the clarification." She said dryly. "Good luck convincing everyone else that, though."

"I mean, I wouldn't fuck him anyway, even if I did have the time or privacy to do so." He said, waving vaguely in Lukas' direction. Riya was staring at him. Her silence unnerved him, and when he looked at her face, he saw something oddly like a smile threatening to fully break out over her face.

"Got it, excellent, I'm so glad that this conversation is continuing." She said after a long moment. "But…" she trailed off, "I don't mean to incriminate you here, but are you sure that you're being entirely honest there?" Matthias just about fell over.

"Yes, I'm sure!" she stared at him, and he stared back. He wasn't sure what she wanted out of him, but he wasn't about to go and lie just to appease her. "Alright, listen, I can understand where people get the impression that we're…closer…than we actually are, but that is just flat out false. From an objective standpoint, purely _objective_ , I will admit that he's an attractive guy, I mean, I saw Calla eying him one day and from what I've seen, they're only interested in women. But regardless of objective beauty, I am not attracted to him." He shrugged, ignoring the look of great amusement on Riya's face. "I can understand why others find him attractive, but I am not on that same wavelength, okay? I swear, if I ever stop seeing him as anything but a proud jackass, I will let you know." Riya bit her lip, looking like she was stifling a grin.

"And it is that charm that will help you break him out of this funk." She shoved him forward and he had to wave his hands around like helicopter blades to keep himself from falling onto his face. He threw a glare at her over his shoulder and reached back, shoving her by the shoulders so that she also overbalanced and landed in the snow. She yelped in indignation and attempted to get her feet out from under her to kick him. Matthias ended up knocked on his ass too, batting off her feet with his gloved hands. Riya was grinning like a maniac, but her expression froze when she glanced over Matthias' shoulder.

"Well, hi there Lukas." She said simply. Matthias whirled around, blinking sheepishly when he saw Lukas standing not even a metre away, looking thoroughly confused and unimpressed. Without another word, she kicked Matthias forcefully enough in the chest that he fell backwards against Lukas' legs, scrambled to her feet, gave them both a mock salute and ran off. Matthias gawked, mentally filing Riya under 'is a complete and utter little shit' in his head.

Realising that his back was still pressed against Lukas' legs, he shuffled away, tipping his head up and grinning in a way that he hoped didn't look _too_ guilty. He must have failed, because the prince's frown deepened.

"What in the hell were you doing?" he asked, tone dull and humourless. Matthias scratched his head.

"Okay, before I go into an in-depth explanation, the whole crouching behind boxes was 100% Riya's idea." Lukas looked a little disbelieving at that, but he didn't openly discredit what Matthias was saying, for which he was grateful.

"Why are you here? I assumed you would be napping, or something."

"Hey, I don't spend all of my time sleeping." Lukas raised an eyebrow. "…Shut up." Matthias grumbled. "I got into the habit while I was imprisoned by the rebels." He fell silent, watching as Lukas' expression softened fractionally. "As for why I'm here, well, you're kinda starting to worry Riya and I." the prince looked downright startled at that. He folded his arms, looking a little disbelieving.

"…Why?" he said after a long moment. "What reason do either of you possibly have to be worried about me?" his voice sounded a little smaller than it usually did, and Matthias hesitated. The Fynknian looked oddly… _vulnerable_ like this. The part of him that conducted all protective instincts – usually reserved for his sister Ivaana and some of his younger friends – surged up a little.

"Riya told that me you're freaking out over getting into a guerrilla squad." He said, making his voice a little quieter and gentler than it normally was. "You shouldn't be stressing yourself out so much." Lukas sighed.

"And why the hell not?" he snapped. "being in a squad is the best way for me to actually make a difference. It's what I've been aiming for for months now. I've waited 11 years to come back here and fight, and I can't have my chance squandered because I couldn't beat someone in hand-to-hand combat."

Matthias sighed, before getting to his feet and frowning reprimandingly at the much shorter man. "Listen up, I know that you're really set on getting into one of the squads, but come on, Lukas, you're one of the best fighters in Block D. I have no doubts that you'll be able to smash most of the people you get paired up with. You're underestimating your own abilities by a _lot_."

Lukas stared at him, before his frown eased a little. "I see you've actually called me by my first name." Matthias blinked, going over his words in his head. He sighed.

"Yeah, I guess I did." He muttered. "It's just…" his hand hovered awkwardly for a minute before he said a silent 'fuck it' and placed it on the Fynknian's shoulder. "You'll be fine. Losing your mind stressing out about it isn't going to help you get any better at actually fighting, now is it?"

Lukas sighed, and shook his head. "Yeah, I guess not." He looked up at Matthias, making proper eye contact. He blinked. He had never really taken the time to properly look at Lukas' eyes before, but he could see now that the deep blue colour wasn't perfect. A crescent of silver interrupted the dark hue in his left eye. The mark was odd, but it didn't have an unpleasant effect. "I thought Matthias the Therapist only appears once in a blue moon?" he teased. "This is twice in one week." Matthias grinned, dropping his hand from the prince's shoulder.

"Well, he'll be unavailable for a long time, so this is just making up for that." He said, punching Lukas gently in the shoulder. "For real, though, you'll be fine. We all will; you, Riya and I." Lukas hummed.

"Who are you fighting first?" he asked. Matthias smiled sheepishly again.

"Uhh, Ansel. Riya is confident that I'll get through to the next round." Lukas huffed out a breath which may have, potentially, been actual laughter.

"I'm up against Elin Markus again." He said. Matthias laughed.

"Then you really will be fine. You took him out easy just a few days ago! Seriously, stop stressing, you psychopath." Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Anxiety and concern are perfectly healthy reactions to life's respective stressors." He says. Matthias rolled his eyes.

"Yeah yeah yeah, go ahead and use your big fancy words. I'm going to go grab some coffee and fight Riya for abandoning me. You're welcome to join me if you want." Lukas watched him, bewildered, for a moment before stuffing his hands in his pockets, and trailing after him.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
10th Juillat_

Yao skimmed the paper, nodding at Arthur as the pirate relaxed a little.

"The Red Pike." He said. "It sounds familiar."

"It's a bar and anchorage." The pirate explained. "Quite popular among the Galaxy's more lawless citizens." Yao gave him a razor-thin smile.

"I see. You would have fit in quite well, then?" Kirkland didn't rise to the bait, just smiling slightly.

"Very well. My contact said that Barkhado has made plans to stop by there on the 20th. She's got a few trade deals and meetups to coordinate, knowing her." Yao frowned, folding his hands.

"Well, she'll hopefully be able to give you an audience, too, then." Arthur nodded.

"She will. She has a tendency to prioritise her friends over stuffy businessmen, luckily for me. It's been months since I was on anyone's radar, though, so she'll probably be surprised to even see me. Dirie gets talkative; I can't promise that it'll be an in-and-out mission." Yao nodded.

"We aren't going to bother relying on stealth and speed, here, so take as long as you need. We'll need Dirie's insight and connections to find this slave." Arthur nodded again.

"Have you decided who I'm going with? On this mission, I mean." The pirate asked. Yao leant back in his chair. He had given it a lot of thought, but wasn't really any closer to making a final decision.

"I'm still undecided, but you'll leave here on the 18th to get to the Red Pike in time. I'll think over it some more. Oh, and Arthur," the pirate paused, looking at him expectantly, "can you bring Vash Zwingli here? I need to speak with him." The blond looked bewildered, but nodded slowly, departing Yao's tent in the direction of their cell blocks. Yao sighed. He wasn't pleased about the news he had to deliver to the assassin, but he was glad to have an excuse to talk to the man.

Back in early Maii, he had pushed and pressed his analysts and researchers to find out as much about their captives as they possibly could. They had compiled all of the information into comprehensive files which he had been very diligent in memorising. He had asked that they be updated with information regularly where possible. One surprising nugget of intel that they had dug up was the address that Zwingli worked out of. He wasn't sure what he expected, but a dingy apartment in the Szwicza District didn't seem right. He was an assassin, and a very good one at that. He earned hundreds of thousands of marks for every kill. Why he lived in such a dilapidated and dangerous area was beyond Yao, but he had told his reconnaissance team to keep an eye on the property anyway. They had come to him a few days ago with the news that the floor of the building that Zwingli lived in, along with several above and below it, had been engulfed in a huge fire. The man's apartment was likely completely destroyed. He felt obligated to at least inform the assassin of this, and maybe answer some of his other nagging questions in the process.

The scowling blond was steered into his tent only a moment later by Arthur, looking thoroughly disgruntled.

"Ah, thank you, Arthur. Find whatever else you can on Barkhado Dirie and get back to me tomorrow." He watched Zwingli as he spoke to the pirate, and raised an eyebrow when he saw him stiffen at the mention of Barkhado Dirie. She was rather well known, Yao supposed, but the burning, unidentifiable emotion in his eyes made him pause. Yao waited until Arthur exited the tent, and gestured to the chair. The assassin was still for a long moment before reluctantly sitting down. Yao drummed his gloves fingers on the desk for a moment. "Thank you for joining me, Mr Zwingli." The blond scowled again.

"It isn't as though I had much of a choice." He muttered. Yao hummed in mild agreement, then reached into one of his desk drawers and withdrew the cell which had the pictures of the burnt-out building on it. He handed it over and watched as Vash sifted through the pictures, a frown taking over his features. "What's this?" he asked. Yao sighed.

"I'm sorry to inform you of this, but my subordinates delivered the news a few days ago that a massive fire somehow broke out in your apartment building. Most of your floor, in additional to several others, were destroyed." Vash stared at the pictures, brow furrowing.

"Where did the fire start?" he asked. Yao sighed, taking back the cell when Vash handed it to him.

"Only a few apartments down from your own, I believe." He said simply. Vash's expression twisted, and Yao watched in confusion and intrigue as he clearly tried to wrestle his face into something more neutral. The fire meant something to him, Yao realised. He didn't seem wholeheartedly concerned about the destruction of his personal property. He frowned, leaning forward a little. "You seem a little disturbed about this." Vash paused and looked up.

"I'm not." He said, tone level despite the obvious tension that Yao registered in his shoulders. He raised an eyebrow.

"If you are going to lie to me, Mr Zwingli, you might want to try a little harder." He said delicately. The assassin glared at him. "I will say, you are quite the enigma. I know that your name is not your real name, at least not in it's entirety. It would be blatantly foolish to operate in the business that you do using your real name." he leant back in his chair, kicking one leg over the other and staring at the ceiling absently. "I know that Mr Kirkland does the same, as do many others, undoubtedly. Even despite your careful anonymity, though, it's not hard to get information on you. You aren't as careful as you might think." He clasped his hands and eyed the blond.

"For example, I know that you always demand large sums in exchange for your service, and still live in one of the poorest parts of Bibesti. You were intelligent enough to surmise Lukas Bondevik's identity based on minimal evidence, and afterwards showed immense interest in him despite claiming that you didn't want to kill or sell him. You seem unbothered by the fact that your apartment went up in flames, and yet you actively asked after the origin of the fire rather than if any of your possessions could be saved. Judging by your reaction when I was speaking to Arthur, you have a dislike of Barkhado Dirie. You are a curious young man, indeed."

Vash scowled at this. "You sure seem interested in me, _General_." Yao smiled thinly.

"I only had you brought here so that I could inform you of what happened to your apartment." He tilted his head to the side. "But I am inclined to ask you to stay. You do interest me, Mr Zwingli." Vash huffed, but didn't respond. Yao studied his face. He looked like there was something burning right beneath the surface, something he wanted to say. "Is there anything I can help you with? You look like there's something you want to say."

Vash sighed. "You want to help the Free Courts, don't you?" Yao nodded. "Why, exactly?"

"Because the Union murdered and displaced millions of people when they took over the Free Courts. Their actions were a vile act against a whole horde of people, an act which never should have been tolerated by so many other planets. A lot of our members are from the Free Courts, you can't have failed to notice that. We aim to get them their homes back. As the only real stalwart anti-slavery planets in the Galaxy, they always supported our agenda against the Union."

Vash hummed. "And what about their royals? What do you intend to do with the Bondevik siblings and Tori Laurinaitis now that you have them?" Yao blinked.

"I intend to help them get their homes back, and I would be happy to see them installed on their respective thrones in my lifetime. We lend a great deal of aid to any Free Court rebel cells that ask for it." Vash looked up.

"So, they're the ends to your political agenda? Is that it?" Yao stiffened.

"Though useful they may be, make no mistake, Mr Zwingli, I care about them deeply as individuals as well. They are all only young, and I only want to help them gain back what the Union unlawfully ripped from their hands." Vash stayed silent, looking deep in thought. Yao sighed. "You see to be very interested in the royals, why?"

Vash went rigid, and Yao could practically see his thoughts sprinting rapidly behind his eyes. The assassin seemed to weigh what he would say next for a moment, before the tension drained from his shoulders and he slumped in his seat a little.

"You really want to help them? The royals? You don't just want to sell them off to the Union for a profit?" Yao shook his head.

"Let me assure you, Mr Zwingli, if I had any intention to selling them off to the Union, I would be hundreds of billions of marks richer." He spread his arms. "Do I look that rich to you?"

The assassin was silent once more. "…You're telling the truth. You really just want to help them…" Yao nodded, watching him carefully.

"I do." He said honestly. Vash sighed, resting his head in his hands.

"…I would bet that my neighbours caused that fire. I have no idea why, but I'm almost certain that it was them." He said, voice quiet and faltering, as if he was unsure of whether he wanted to disclose this information evev as he gave it. Yao cocked his head to the side.

"And why would your neighbours start a fire in your apartment building?" he asked. Vash sighed, folding his arms.

"Back when I figured out who Lukas Bondevik was, I didn't show interest because I wanted to sell him off to the Union like your lackeys assumed. I just wanted to talk to him."

"Why?" Yao questioned. Vash looked up, green eyes making contact with Yao's brown.

"Lovino and Feliciano Vargas were among my neighbours." He ground out. He jerked his head towards the Cell lying on the table. "I'd bet good money that it was one of them that started that fire, though why they would I don't know." He muttered. Yao was completely still, letting the new information sink in.

"How did you know it was them?" he asked quietly. Vash winced.

"They kept their names the same, which wasn't as foolish a move as one would believe. The combination of names for siblings became incredibly common for Jhobrasian people after Queen Carina named them both, which is what they were disguising themselves as. I heard then speaking in Syhvvanian one night." He shrugged. "I did a lot of digging, found a picture of the old queen. Lovino looks astonishingly similar to her. I guessed that was who they were. I guess that news about the fire confirms it." Yao stared at him, trying to dispel the wave of unwelcome anger that surged up inside him. He should be relieved by this news, elated even. But all he could feel was harsh, blinding anger that this information had been kept from him.

 _This man owes you no loyalty, so it's foolish to assume that he would have told you if not pressed_ , one half of his brain murmured.

 _He's crossed a line, you should punish him for keeping such important information from you_ , another voice muttered malevolently into his ear. He rubbed his hands over both his ears, wishing that the act could dispel the erratic whispers.

"And you didn't think it was important to inform me of this?" he said, tone undercut with irritation. The second voice cackled victoriously. He clenched his hands into fists under his desk. His knee was jogging up and down but he couldn't be bothered stopping it. Vash frowned.

"Believe me, General, I owe no loyalty to the Union, but I owe none to you either. I care more about their safety and wellbeing than I do about the resistance's martyr act and political agenda." Yao sat up a little straighter.

"Oh? You are concerned for them?" Vash's face shut down, all emotion from a moment before vanishing, locked behind an impenetrable mask. Yao ignored the stab of vicious satisfaction that rose inside him at that moment. "That's good to know. Though I must say, Mr Zwingli, I am rather disappointed in your lack of proactivity. If you are willing to share more information about your Syhvvanian friends, I may consider letting you help look for them, but for now, I think it would be best if I returned you to your cell." Zwingli clenched his jaw but didn't say anything.

Yao rose from his chair and moved around his desk, grabbing the blond by his upper arm and dragging him from the tent, towards the cell block. "If you want to say anything more on the matter, feel free to send for me, or even anything on Barkhado Dirie, for that matter." Vash went rigid again, stumbling slightly as Yao steered him forwards roughly, "Oh, yes, I saw your reaction when you heard her name. Acquainted, are you?" he inquired. Vash scowled.

"She took something important from me." He growled. Yao raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Why?"

"I shot her mentor, a big crime boss called Okeriete Abara. She didn't take kindly to it, and decided that she would take something in return." He frowned. "She swore to return it if I paid her the amount of money that Abara had in his bank account at the time that he died."

"And how much money was that?" Vash's eyes dimmed and the corners of his mouth turned down.

"Over 13 million marks." He said, tone dark. Yao nodded in sudden understanding.

"So, all of the money you earn from your clients…"

"Goes to her, yes, but she's stalling now that I'm getting close. She sets ridiculous limits for me to meet and hesitates to see me." Yao hummed.

"Have you ever considered that she may have destroyed this precious thing of yours already and just be draining you of your money?" Vash looked down.

"I have."

"And?"

He looked up again. "And if she has, then I'll track her down and mount her head on the prow of her ship."

"This thing she stole must be quite important to you."

Yao only caught the assassin's next words because he was so close to him. As it was, he doubted that they really were intended for him.

"She is."

* * *

 _Onboard the SS Larcenist,  
Outer Space,  
12th Juillat_

Lovino twisted his torso around, sighing as he felt pressure release and a loud, mildly sickening crack met his ears. He relaxed again, rotating his feet to accomplish the same goal with his ankles. Eladina watched him with mild disgust.

"Isn't that the sort of thing that ends up giving you osteoporosis or something?" she asked. Lovino blinked at her, frowning in utter confusion.

"I don't know what the fuck they're teaching you on Jhobras, but I don't think that's right." She shrugged, not looking even remotely upset to be both wrong and verbally vilified. In the awful twelve or so days that he had spent on Barkhado Dirie's ship, one thing he had learned was that Eladina Gonzalez was unfalteringly cheerful. Even though he had been reticent to a fault and completely unwilling to reveal anymore information other than his ethnicity and age, she hadn't been bothered by it at all, and had compensated for his lack of sharing by telling him an inordinately large amount of things about herself. She reminded him of Feliciano, if he had a little less discretion.

He knew that she was 18 years old and from Jhobras, that her mother's name was Gabriéla and her father's name was Santin. He knew that she used to have a dog called Mopsy and she lived in a town right by a river. She had grown up swimming and fishing there with her family. She had no sisters but one older brother, Alejandro, who hadn't been at the house the day that slavers came to find new victims. Eladina had spoken at length about her favourite books, movies, singers and even what musicals she thought were worth spending time on. She had talked his ear off for the better part of his imprisonment here, but he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed by it. She had a soothing voice, and a wicked sense of humour. She cracked jokes that warranted groans and gasps from everyone in the container and grins from Lovino.

But he was yet to yield any information on himself. She still called him Red because he didn't want to let anyone know his name and he was too tired to remember a proper alias. 'Red' suited him just fine, for now. He had caved and admitted, after her relentless questioning, that he was 20 years old. Lovino had expected that providing a small piece of information would make her more curious, but her interest had been sated, and she had seemed glad to know just one more thing about him.

One of the other prisoners had explained that her curiosity was due to him being Syhvvanian. He couldn't blame her. The other prisoners had been enraptured by his hair and eyes for days after he had first been dumped in here. He couldn't blame them. Seeing anyone from the Free Courts was a novelty like none other these days.

Lovino sighed. He would give anything to get off this ship, but he wasn't foolish enough to try. He had been using his telekinesis to get a feel for the ship as a whole, and it may as well have been a maze. It seemed that he would be stuck in this filthy hold, with these strange people, until further notice. He was glad to at least have Eladina's continued babbling to distract him from the hopelessness of the situation.

He sat up straight as the metal door creaked and groaned and swung open. It wasn't Dirie herself, thank goodness, but one of her underlings, dragging a young girl behind him.

"If it was up to me, you'd have been thrown in here permanently by now." The man sneered at the girl before hurling her to the floor. "Enjoy your stay." He slammed the door shut, and the girl pushed herself up into a sitting position. Lovino studied her. She only looked young; maybe thirteen or fourteen at most. She was remarkably skinny, and rather pale. She had dirty blond hair that fell to her shoulders and bright green eyes. Lovino was immediately struck with intense feelings of déjà vu.

She looked around hesitantly. Eladina brightened and waved cheerfully.

"Hey! I see that you're back again." The girl quickly shuffled over to Eladina's side, looking a little frightened by the other prisoners. She nodded quietly, biting her lip.

"Yeah, I'm back." She murmured. Her voice was so quiet and small that Lovino had to strain his ears to hear it. She looked so slight and fragile that he could almost _feel_ his ingrained protective instincts kicking in. The girl looked up and made eye contact with him, blinking in surprise as she noted his ethnicity for the first time. He squirmed a little after her staring became prolonged, and she snapped out of it, blushing furiously.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be rude…" he shook his head a little.

"It's okay, don't worry. I've gotten far worse treatment while here." He said. It had been his plan to not ask her any questions, but her familiarity was really bugging him. "I feel like I know you from somewhere. You look familiar." The girl blinked.

"Oh, really? I've been Dirie's prisoner for the last two years, so I don't think so." He huffed.

"Yikes, I guess not, then." Eladina grinned from behind the girl's shoulder.

"Good to see you two getting along well." She jerked her head at the girl. "This is Liliana Keller. Lili, meet Red. That's not his real name, but he refuses to tell me what it actually is, so I've dubbed him Red for now." Lovino hummed and nodded at the girl.

"Do you not like your real name?" she asked curiously, her voice gaining a little volume as her previous shyness melted away a bit.

"It's not that I don't like it, kid, it's just that I would rather that people I barely know aren't aware of what it is." She nodded, looking like she understood.

"That makes sense. My brother does that too." She said simply, her face closing off a little. Another wave of vague recognition registered in the back of Lovino's mind as he examined the carefully blank look, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. He ran over her words in his head.

"You have a brother?" he asked in interest. "Older or younger?"

She smiled, albeit a little sadly. "Oh, older, by about 13 years, too." Lovino raised an eyebrow. It wasn't that he had never met siblings with such a large age gap, but it was hardly common either. The girl – Liliana – grinned conspiratorily and leant forward a little. "Just between you and me, he was an accident." Lovino snorted, moving to hide his grin behind his hand. Eladina laughed openly and unabashedly. Liliana relaxed a little, a very small and very hesitant smile appearing on her face.

"I have a younger brother." Lovino admitted. "But he's only two years younger than me." He gave Liliana a pointed look. "A much smaller age gap, I'm sure you'll agree." The girl nodded, smiling shyly. He felt the smallest surge of his protective nature rearing it's head. She looked prone to break at the slightest touch. She reminded him of what Feliciano had been like when he was younger. Lovino felt an abrupt stab of sadness well up inside him. He wished that his brother was by his side. They had never been apart for this long. He forced himself to focus back on Liliana.

"Where did they take you from?" she asked gently. "Even pirates aren't daring enough to go to Syhvva."

"The Szwicza District, in Bibesti." Liliana blinked.

"On Rela?" she questioned. At his nod of affirmation, her expression turned a little sad. "I wish I had known we were over Rela. My brother lives in the Szwicza District too." The back of Lovino's mind started to scream at him. A thousand tiny clues were scratching at his consciousness. Blond hair, green eyes, what sounded like the remnants of a Pyndaphian accent, a brother who lived in Szwicza who was 13 years older than her, which, judging by the fact that this girl barely looked to be a teenager, was probably between 25 to 27 years old…

"Vash Zwingli." He muttered suddenly. The girl froze, whirling around from where she had turned to talk to Eladina to face him again.

"What did you say?" she asked, her voice shaking a little. Lovino's gaze narrowed in on her. It was easy to see the resemblance, now that he had the assassin's face at the front of his mind.

"Vash Zwingli." He repeated. "Is that your brother?" She hesitated, but nodded slowly, looking a little afraid. He could not fucking believe this. A troubling though made itself known. If this was Vash's little sister, then why was she here? He shoved that question to the side for now, focusing on her. She looked scared. His heart melted. "Don't look so worried. He's a friend of mine, and one of my neighbours as well." She relaxed immensely, her expression shifting from apprehension to curiosity.

"When you say that you were a 'friend' of his…" she trailed off. Lovino caught her meaning. Evidently, she knew about her brother's occupation.

"As in he came to my apartment and drank tea with me and listened to my brother complain about the price of ginger." He assured her. She relaxed a lot, and then she genuinely smiled. Liliana stuck her hand out, and he accepted it, shaking it.

"Well then it's nice to meet you. I know Eladina introduced me before, but you can just call me Lili, if you want." He nodded, recalling also that Eladina had said that her surname was Keller. He knew that Vash Zwingli was probably not the man's real name, so it made for an interesting tidbit of information.

"Nice to meet you." He hesitated. He wanted to stay under the radar, but there was someone right in front of him that he had a connection to. She might have been Vash's sister, but he didn't know if he wanted to tell her his real name just this moment. Lili shook her head and smiled.

"You don't need to tell me your name. You only just met me, after all. I'll make do with calling you Red for now." He smiled softly at her. Lovino didn't thank her, but he knew that she understood he was grateful. He honestly couldn't quite relate her personality, so soft and kind and considerate, to that of Vash. Vash was all harshness and blunt statements and mild apathy. They seemed like very different people. He was tempted, briefly, to ask her more about Vash, particularly about what his real first name was, but he decided not to push the tentative acquaintance they had established.

Instead, he leant against the wall and listened to Eladina regale them with a story that seemed wildly improbable and bizarre, but was also just a tad too interesting and detailed to let him easily dismiss it as fake. He couldn't say that he was content, sitting on the cold metal floor of a pirate's ship, but the atmosphere felt like it had become a little lighter.

* * *

 **Liliana Keller = Liechtenstein (duh)**


	23. One Victory and Two More Failures

**Hi guys!**

 **I'm so sorry for my 3-week hiatus there! I did study for ages and did all my exams (which went okay! Woohoo!) But I just completely lacked the motivation to write, in addition to inspiration, so my intended 2-week hiatus turned into 3. Sorry! I have gotten back into my groove now, thanks to the magic of re-reading my most recent chapters, eating pasta and blasting the album 21st Century Liability at top volume in my room (which I do recommend ;D). And now we have a new chapter!**

 **RECAP:  
** **\- Matthias reassured Lukas of his talent as a fighter, and also called him by his first name for the first time ever. Matthias and Riya also established themselves as a Comedic Duo of great power. Riya also took the time to inform Matthias that everyone at the camp lowkey ships it.  
** **\- Vash spilled the beans about the Vargas brothers to Yao, and also admitted to having a grudge against Barkhado Dirie for her taking something precious from him after he killed her mentor.  
** **\- Lovino met Liliana Keller, who is Vash's younger sister, and the 'precious thing' that Barkhado took from Vash.**

 **WARNINGS:  
** **\- An ephebophile character and the prelude to a sexual assault. Could technically be classified as dubcon but I'm still counting it as sexual assault. There is no actual scene of assault, but there are heavy implications.  
** **\- Some mentions of violence and a brief dream segment that could also count as a partial flashback.  
** **\- A scene of someone vomiting, including said person vomiting on themselves.  
** **\- The usual swearing and general morbid tone as well of course.**

 **Please comment! I love y'all!**

* * *

 _Ta Cïtadel twrali Tapsiris Jel (Citadel for the Order of the Wind)  
Tamyir District, Bibesti, Rela,  
12th Juillat_

Feliciano towelled his hair off again, still feeling strange to have his head uncovered in a place with other people around. He had been relegated to a set of rooms in the far east of the Citadel's vast area, and while a part of him was irritated by the time that he and Inkar had taken to rest and collect themselves, his body was very grateful for it. With Mother Aimira's many insistences that his identity would not become known outside these walls, he had found himself able to really relax and get some good sleep for the first time since he had learned that Inkar was after them. He had been sleeping soundly for hours longer than he normally did, and the addition of hot baths, good food and care for his cuts, scrapes and scars had also been very welcome.

It felt good to be properly clean again, and to not be covered in the dirt and grime of Bibesti's poorest district. His clothes had still been covered in ash and blood from the night Inkar had attacked him and his brother. The Zephyrak who had greeted them a week ago – Zubaira, if he remembered right – had shaken her head the minute she had properly looked at them, and demanded that he hand them over so she could dispose of them. He had been given new sets of clothes that were vastly nicer than anything else he had ever owned, so he hadn't complained too much.

He hadn't had much to do during the day. The Zephyrak had been mobilised by order of Mother Aimira to look for any footage containing Cahya Maharani in their surveillance rooms, and also told to keep an ear out for anything related to Barkhado Dirie's current whereabouts. He sighed, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. There were bruises scattered up his neck and a cut on his cheek that was still healing. His hair was messy and still damp from his bath. He examined the vibrant red hue for a few moments. It was still a little strange to not see a head full of black hair staring back at him, but he preferred the change.

A gentle knock on the door rang out through the room. He jumped a little; regardless of how safe this place supposedly was, he still found himself wary and hesitant to trust others. He hesitated to answer the door. Feeling his palms prickle slightly – a promise that his abilities could save him if need be – he approached the door and opened it. Inkar stood outside, fiddling with the long, wide sleeves of the dark blue robe she was wearing.

Her hair had been freed from it's usual impeccable braid, and instead hung free and wavy over her shoulders. Without the slick black uniform, harsh expression and imposing air that she normally bore, she seemed a lot smaller somehow, a little more vulnerable than usual. She averted her eyes.

"Do you mind if I come in?" she asked. Feliciano shrugged and stood back, letting her walk inside before shutting the door.

She was silent, wringing her hands when he turned to face her. There was a long moment of silence as he watched her pace around the room slowly. Despite the fact that she was wearing hard-soled shoes, her footsteps were completely silent. It intrigued him, how quiet she could make her movements. He knew that some of it was due to her abilities, and that she could lighten herself with her power over the wind, but even disregarding that, she was unnaturally silent.

The dim golden lights dotted around the room cast a warm glow on her face, drawing sharp shadows underneath her cheekbones. As she finally turned to look at him, the lights were reflected in her dark eyes. His stomach flipped slightly, and he averted his eyes, gently running his foot along the smooth, tiled floor.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" he asked, continuing to towel off his hair as he trekked back over to his bed. He dropped the towel onto the bed and sat down next to it, twiddling his thumbs a little. He heard her sigh softly, before the bed dipped down slightly next to him. He glanced over at her as she bit her lip.

"We've found where Cahya Maharani is currently stationed." She murmured. "Our intel says that she'll be there for the next two days, so I would recommend that we move in tomorrow. If she doesn't have your brother, then we can explore other options. We have no intel on Barkhado Dirie as of yet, but we're working on it." he nodded. "I would recommend that we go out and question Maharani as soon as possible. She's known for being flighty, so it's unlikely that she'll linger around the city for much longer." He nodded absently, wringing his hands.

"Yeah, that sounds reasonable." He murmured, looking at the coloured tiles on the ground, gently brushing his bare feet along them. She was hesitant, that much he could tell. It was obvious that his quietness was making her uncomfortable.

"We can hunt her down tomorrow." Inkar said. He nodded again, looking up this time to meet her eyes. Her mouth was downturned, and she looked a little melancholy. "I know you still aren't keen on the idea of working with me, Feliciano, and I understand that completely, but I am trying to help you." Feliciano blinked, rubbing at his eyes.

"I know…I'm just tired, it isn't you." Inkar frowned, but nodded.

"I see. I'll leave you to rest, then. Tomorrow could be a hectic day. Cahya Maharani is a bizarre person." Feliciano frowned at the tense note in her voice.

"What is it? Is there something I should be worried about?" Inkar bit her lip, wringing her hands.

"…She's an ephebophile." Inkar muttered. "And she frequently uses the people who come to her seeking aid to satisfy that screwed up desire." Feliciano frowned. He didn't want to have to ask, but he legitimetly didn't know what Inkar was talking about.

"What's an ephebophile?" he asked softly. Inkar blinked, then made a face.

"It's a grown adult who is exclusively attracted to teenagers, mostly in the 15-19 age range. It doesn't apply to people who are only a few years older, though. I mean a 20-year-old interested in a 17-year-old wouldn't be classed as an ephebophile. Cahya Maharani is one of them. She's 32, just for reference." Feliciano made a face. Inkar hesitated. "I'm just…concerned. You're only 17. To put it bluntly, you're right in her age range. I'm worried about what she might ask of you in return for your brother, if she does have him." Feliciano fell silent.

He had never really spent too much time considering that he would be targeted in such a way. It had been on his mind more than usual after he had been attacked back in Maii, but it generally wasn't his largest concern. He considered himself very lucky that, as a man, if he were to be sexually assaulted, there was no chance of it resulting in something like pregnancy. His heart ached for every woman out there who had suffered twice-over because of the twisted nature of others. He definitely had no plans to sleep with anyone, least of all a pirate in her 30s, but…

"I'll do what it takes to get my brother back." He said quietly. "He's the most important person in my life, and if getting him back means sacrificing some other things, I'm willing to do it." Inkar was staring at him, aghast.

"While it's humbling that you're willing to make those sacrifices, Feliciano…" she trailed off, seeming to not know how to continue, "…you shouldn't have to. You're only a kid." He shrugged.

"Life doesn't dole out rewards and punishments in equal measure," he said, quoting something that Lovino had told him once, "pretending that it does will only disappoint you." He looked up at her and shrugged. "Don't worry, Inkar. I'm not as breakable as I look, you know." Inkar hesitated, but bowed her head slightly.

"Whatever you say," she said gently, "I should let you get some sleep. I'll wake you tomorrow so we can find Maharani." He nodded, and watched as the Zephyrak slipped out of his room, her expression deeply troubled.

* * *

 _13th Jaune_

Feliciano eyed the building uncertainly. It wasn't exactly what he would have envisioned a pirate's temporary hideout to look like. The building was hardly decked out in riches, but nor was it rundown and decrepit like he might have expected. It looked like any other apartment building might. He raised an eyebrow, and Inkar snickered.

"Were you expecting something more dramatic, perhaps?" he shrugged.

"Well, I guess I just expected it to look more like, you know…a hideout." Inkar smiled softly.

"That's fair. It is a bit of a let-down, isn't it?" she chuckled, before jerking her head in the direction of the door. "Come on, let's get this over and done with." He nodded and followed her inside. The lobby was dim and stank of artificial vanilla, likely an air freshener or cleaner of some sort. He wrinkled his nose but followed Inkar as she began climbing the stairs.

"There's quite a few of these in store, fair warning." She murmured to him over her shoulder. He nodded, anxiously tugging the edges of his black wool beanie down further, ensuring that all of his hair was safely tucked underneath it. He had been more nervous of his appearance than ever since the dye had been washed from his hair. Knowing that Lovino likely wouldn't have been plucked from the streets by the pirates if not for his distinctive ethnicity had made Feliciano very cautious recently.

He fixed his gaze on the methodical back-and-forth swing of Inkar's long, dark braid as she walked ahead of him. His resentment towards her had gradually fizzled out to almost nothing, especially in the last few days. She really was doing her best to make amends for what had happened, and he had hardly been receptive to her efforts. She deserved to be given the chance to redeem herself, and her devotion to helping find Lovino was proof enough that she regretted trying to force them off the planet. He sighed. He could understand her reasoning perfectly well, and it was a shame that the circumstances had led to them clashing. He had no doubt that they could have been great friends if things had developed differently.

Inkar's footsteps slowed as they finally came to the floor they were searching for. She paused for a minute to let a somewhat puffed Feliciano catch his breath and massage his aching calves before she pushed the door open and they stepped quietly into a carpeted corridor. Feliciano's throat closed up as he was immediately reminded of his and Lovino's own apartment. The fire that his brother had started had torn through the entire apartment and a great deal of the rest of their floor. The place that had once been his refuge and safety was little more than ashes and charcoal now.

He swallowed, forcing himself to focus on the present and follow Inkar. He glanced from side to side, carefully observing his surroundings like Lovino had taught him to. The scar he had received from his stabbing earlier in the year twinged, and he rubbed at it with two fingers absently. Inkar stopped at the end of the hall, in front of a door guarded by a towering man with a mane of green-dyed hair. He raised an eyebrow at her. She made eye contact easily.

"And what do you want?" he asked gruffly. Inkar straightened up.

"I'm here to see Captain Maharani." She said. "Don't bother telling me that I have the wrong place, because I know that I don't. I'm not interested in tattling to the authorities, I just have some queries." The man frowned, sweeping his gaze up and down her body, scrutinising her. Feliciano winced when he noted the man's gaze lingering on the emblem on her black uniform – the emblem that marked her out as one of the Zephyrak.

"No can do. I don't let strangers in here. Come back with a referral or don't come back at all." He growled. Inkar hummed, then reached her hand backwards. Feliciano stepped forward, and she seized his wrist. A shock of cold passed over his entire body, and he left every hair on his body stand up.

"That's a shame. If we can't do this on reasonable terms, then we can do it on mine." She smiled gently, and moved forward sharply. The man pulled a knife, but it passed right through her. The _Faza_ was an impressive gift indeed. Throwing him a sharp look, she stepped unfalteringly through the wall, dragging Feliciano with her.

Passing through solid objects wasn't a pleasant experience. Even though he emerged the other side unharmed, he could almost feel the scrape of wood and plaster over his skin, and felt a brief, body-wide aching, as though every part of his body had become bruised and then healed within a five-second period.

Their appearance was greeted with yells of shock and alarm. Inkar reached over and flipped the lock shut, so that the guard wouldn't be able to come into the apartment from outside, released Feliciano's arm and drew her knives, levelling them at the pirates who, previously lounging around the room, had leapt to their feet in surprise.

"I'd rather not cut any throats today, but I will do what is necessary." She said, tone cool and collected. The pirate closest to her hesitated, glancing to the right, where a woman, looking rather perplexed but ultimately unbothered by the whole affair, was climbing to her feet.

"I know you will, Zephyrak. Fenir, step back." The pirate moved away, and the woman stepped into Feliciano's direct line of vision. She was a little taller than him, with light brown skin and short black hair cut off just above her shoulders. She was surprisingly plain-looking, for a pirate captain. She was wearing a patterned, light orange shirt under a brown leather vest, dark pants and simple boots. Other than a few gold rings in her ears, she didn't look too remarkable.

But she matched the pictures of Cahya Maharani that Inkar had shown him at the Citadel. He tensed unconsciously. Her gaze slid from Inkar to him, and she tilted her head, smiling slightly as she raked her gaze up and down.

"Captain Maharani." Inkar said with surprising civility in her voice. "I'm here to inquire about your recent activities, during the Three Day Reign, that is." Maharani turned back to Inkar, scoffing.

"Annoyed that I acted as your own government has decreed I have the right to? What do you have to complain about, Zephyrak?" Inkar frowned.

"Though despicable a profession as it is, I am not here to condemn you for your crimes, at least not today. Hundreds of people end up dead, injured or missing during the Three Days Reign. I'm here to inquire after one of them." Maharani raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? What makes you think that I have any information?" Inkar huffed.

"You and your pirates were operating in the area in which my friend's brother went missing. It is entirely possible that your crew abducted him to sell onwards to slavers."

"A missing brother, eh?" Maharani turned and surveyed Feliciano. "I doubt it. If he looks anything like this one, I would have remembered. I have a good memory for pretty faces." Feliciano scowled as Maharani grinned predatorily at him again. Inkar coughed, expression stormy.

"If you don't have him, then do you know of anyone else in the area who may have picked up someone of a similar description to him?" she asked impatiently. Maharani hummed, looking at Feliciano again.

"Well other than the pretty face, he isn't too distinct, so I can't be sure." Feliciano exchanged a look with Inkar, who looked resigned. She nodded slightly and, sighing, he pulled the dark beanie from his head. He heard some muffled gasps from the pirates, and Maharani's eyes went wide as she stepped closer to him.

"Oh my, my, my. _Syhvvanian_." She breathed, eyes alight with intrigue. "Now there's something I haven't seen in quite a while." She reached out a hand and brushed it through his vibrant hair. He flinched, but didn't move away. She grinned at that.

"Has anyone you know mentioned capturing a Syhvvanian?" Inkar asked. "They do look similar enough, but the ethnicity is the real catch point." Maharani hummed, reluctantly dragging her hand from Feliciano's hair.

"Perhaps I have. And perhaps I also have the means to get to them, something that I know the Zephyrak do not possess." She eyed Inkar. "But know this, Zephyrak, in exchange for such a service, I would require something in return." Inkar closed her eyes.

"What do you want?" she asked, sounding resigned already. Maharani slid her hand up Feliciano's neck to hold him by the chin.

"A night with this pretty little darling should suffice. I would throw in passage to wherever this person is located for free sheerly for how easy on the eyes Syhvvanians are." Inkar's eyes narrowed, and he saw her shoulders tense. "How old are you, anyway?" Maharani directed this question at Feliciano. He squirmed uncomfortably.

"17." He muttered. Her grin only widened.

"Perfect." She purred. "So, is it a deal? I can give you the name before I have my fun, and then take you both there, if that is what you want. I know I may be a pirate, but the giving and receiving of favours is something I do with integrity." Unfortunately, Feliciano knew that that much was true. Cahya Maharani, for all of the terror she inflicted on innocents, was also known for being fair and honest when it came to making deals.

Inkar was silent, expression downturned and repulsed. She looked at Feliciano. He felt sick to his stomach. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be touched by this woman.

But Lovino was in the grips of what was likely an even worse pirate, and if he did nothing, there was no chance that they would ever see each other again. The universe had trillions of people in it. The chance that his brother would become lost in those endless faces terrified him more than anything else.

 _What is more important to you? Maintaining your personal integrity or getting Lovino back?_

He knew what the answer was. There had never been any real doubt about it. His brother was the most important thing in the world to him, and he always had been. Lovino had raised him and treasured him and taken better care of him than their grandfather had ever managed to do,

And Lovino had done horrifying things to keep Feliciano alive and well, he knew that. As much as he wished there was another explanation, he knew that some of the nights his brother had come home with money, it hadn't been from street-fighting or mugging people. He had always come back quiet on those nights, and it had taken a while for Feliciano to really understand. It had. But eventually, he had figured it out.

And if Lovino were in his position? He knew that his brother would have done anything to get him back, regardless of the personal cost. Lovino had spent his entire life sacrificing and suffering to protect Feliciano. It was his turn to return the first of the thousand favours he owed his brother.

He turned away from Inkar, and towards Maharani, who made eye contact with him. _Just don't think about it too much_. She gave him an inquiring look, and he sighed, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again.

"Deal." He said, voice firm even though he felt nauseous beyond belief. Inkar's face crumpled as Maharani grinned and wrapped her hand around his wrist.

"Excellent." She turned to Inkar. "Barkhado Dirie was boasting about catching a Syhvvanian. She's the one you're looking for. I can take you to where she'll be next." Inkar nodded slowly, looking mournful as Maharani turned back to Feliciano, looping his arm in hers and dragging him across the apartment to a door that undoubtedly led to another room. "Now, you and I are going to get to know each other."

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
14th Juillat_

"So, how do you guys think Matthias is going?" Feliks absently wondered aloud. He and his friends were sprawled around the training grounds, having just finished helping younger recruits with their hand-to-hand skills. Feliks had been lucky enough to get paired up with a girl just as timid as she was petite. She had seemed extremely reluctant to hit him, or to even try. The others hadn't been so lucky. Antonio was rubbing at a sore spot on his arm that was sure to turn into a bruise, and Louise had almost dislocated her knee earlier.

Though they had finished their training over half an hour ago, the rebels milling around the arena were yet to escort them back to their cell, so they were taking the opportunity to enjoy themselves outside. Being let out and allowed to actually do something useful had helped them all immensely. Everyone's previously dour moods had skyrocketed back into mild contentment. Feliks still couldn't say that he was especially happy with the situation that they were in; they were still prisoners, and their every freedom was under the control of the cold Yanishman who led the resistance, but for now he was grateful for this small liberty.

The vibrant Nymian sky stretched vast and blue above them; he had seen very few clouds on this planet since arriving, that he would readily admit. He knew that it was a very dry planet, but even then, the manifest lack of even the suggestion of rain was confronting, especially when compared to the almost-constant overcast state of Reycass' skies. Hell, even Pyndaph, which he had spent only the first seven years of his life on, had far more rain. Nyma was an unusual planet, but it was oddly beautiful. The deep red and orange colours of the dirt were strangely pleasing to the eye. Even the bizarre form of the trees in the forest that the rebels had built their headquarters inside were more intriguing than offputting to him.

Feliks sighed, stretching his arms out until he felt a satisfying crack reverberate through his spine. He had taken it upon himself to lie on the hard-packed dirt ground, and several of his friends had joined him. A larger group of them had been allowed out at once today. He, Francis, Vash, Louise, Antonio, Berwald, Roderich and Natalya had all opted to go training today. Yael and Eduard had been the only ones to decline, citing sore muscles from the last time they had gone training. Feliks hummed softly. He personally loved the feel of aching spreading through his body. It had been months since he had really gotten to exercise properly.

Being kidnapped by the rebels had of course limited his movements, and the gunshot wound he had acquired at the same time had meant that, save the instance where he had helped attack a group of Garvich trying to kill Gilbert, he had been out of commission. Their further imprisonment on Nyma had meant that it had been over five months since he had been fighting fit. But this new liberty was helping greatly to return his physical state to such.

They weren't the only ones hanging around the training ground, of course. Even though they hadn't fought them today, Gilbert, Emilia Bondevik, Elizabeta Hedervary, the short sniper Väinämoïnen and Alfred's older brother Matthew were all lingering, too. Feliks had inquired as to where Alfred and Arthur might be, and had been answered by Matthew with a shrug and shrewd look. "Shooting, sleeping, fucking, I don't know. One of the above."

It was strange, still, to spend any time with Matthew. Even though Feliks knew him better than most of the others, having been kidnapped by him, he didn't know too much about the rebel. It was especially weird considering his remarkable resemblance to his brother. Whenever he caught a glimpse of the taller man in the corner of his eye, he often mistook him for Alfred for a moment before registering his longer hair, different eye colour and clothing. He seemed like a good person, if lacking Alfred's naivete and constantly upbeat demeanour. That wasn't to say that the man was melancholy in any way, but he seemed to take a more critical look at life than his younger brother did. He second-guessed things and seemed to always have at least part of his mind working away at something. Though he and Alfred were almost identical, Matthew came across as a lot more intimidating, when you noticed those little details.

Feliks sat up as he heard Francis hum to his side. "How Matthias is doing? I don't know, but I doubt that he's very happy with his circumstances." Feliks snorted. Yes, his friend was hardly known for giving in easily. He was the most stubborn of them all by a very wide margin. It took a very special person to get Matthias to budge on anything. Even though Feliks was his best friend, and had been for years now, he still lacked the power to get Matthias to give in to his own ideas and wishes. Their current predicament was a testament to that. If Matthias had only listened to him and rejected the idea of hunting down the most elusive people in the Galaxy, they probably wouldn't be here right now.

 _But I also would never have met Tori, or gotten to see this particular corner of the universe._ He glanced to the side, at where Gilbert was talking animatedly to Matthew, his face slightly flushed from what was either exertion or embarrassment. _And our crew would be in one piece. Gilbert wouldn't have left. Alfred wouldn't have become so besotted with Arthur Kirkland and followed him to the resistance._ Even as the thoughts made themselves known, though, others came to replace them. _And he never would have reunited with his brother. The heir to the throne of Daerna would have stayed on Aralos without a clue in the world as to who she was._

It was insane – beyond insane – to think about how far they had come just because the majority of their crew had been taken with ideas of being billions of marks richer. He couldn't say that the journey had made his life take a definitively good turn – he couldn't say that while he was still a prisoner – but it wasn't necessarily bad either. He had gained things in the last seven months that he didn't want to give up.

As if beckoned by his thoughts alone, the gates to the arena swung open just enough for a lithe figure to slip through. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile as Tori approached them, waving genially before sitting down right beside him. Her leg was pressed against his from ankle to mid-thigh, and he felt his interest stir as the warmth began to bleed through the long cargo pants he was wearing. He forced his attention away from her warmth and dazzling smile and towards Francis and Antonio, who were now debating whether Matthias would be able to stay focussed on his task as a protector to the Fynknian prince.

"All I'm saying is, Matthias is already a bad listener when he's being forced or coerced into something. Throw him into an environment as hostile as that on Fynkn, and I personally worry for the poor prince." Francis declared. Feliks cracked a grin. It was true that Matthias could lash out when he wasn't pleased with his circumstances.

"I don't know." Antonio said, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "He does fool around, but he takes his work seriously. Like that Yanishman said, our collective freedom is essentially riding on him doing that job right, isn't it? I think he'll pull his head in a little and actually try. Say what you want about him, but Matthias is a loyal friend and dedicated leader. I have faith in him." Francis hummed, tipping his head sideways in partial concession.

"That is very true, but we should also consider how impulsive he can be." A wicked grin spread across Francis' face. "Our darling leader does have quite the appreciation of getting… _intimate_ with other people. And it's been a while since any of us got to enjoy such a luxury. As far as I have seen, Fynknians are an attractive group of people. He might get distracted." Feliks snorted at this. Francis certainly had a good point.

Matthias, for all of his considerableness, loyalty and humour, wasn't one to get into relationships too often. He had had some very bad experiences with exes in the past, as far as Feliks understood it, and when combined with his natural, bizarre selectiveness in anyone who was a possibility of more than just a one-night-stand, and you essentially had a foolproof way of creating someone who didn't tend to form meaningful relationships with people, at least not in the romantic sense. Matthias formed friendships more easily than Feliks brushed his teeth, yet romance – real romance – was something that seemed to elude his best friend quite a lot.

"I don't know about that." Feliks joked. "The people on Fynkn might not be his 'type'." Francis threw his head back and groaned melodramatically, joined by the rest of their crew as Feliks cackled and Tori blinked in confusion. She gently nudged him in the side, grinning.

"I feel like there's a joke here that I'm not getting. Care to explain?" she inquired, smiling softly. Feliks sat up straighter, smiling as Tori took the opportunity to lean against his folded knees.

"There is a whole fucking saga behind this, so I hope that you're prepared." He said, tone light and joking. She grinned.

"Lay it on me." Tori said, spreading her arms in a 'come at me bro' type of gesture. He grinned and sat up completely, bringing their faces a little closer together than what would be normal. Tori's smile turned a little sly, but she didn't move away at all.

"Now, Matthias' dating history is a long and fascinating one, and as much as I would love to delve into all of that, this has to do with by far the most annoying thing that he does." He heard Antonio snicker. "Now, when it comes to who he wants to date, Matthias can be rather selective."

"If that isn't a fucking understatement!" Francis crowed, flipping over to face Tori, expression shrewd. "He's ridiculous, honestly." Feliks grinned and continued as Tori turned back to him, looking appropriately curious.

"Every single time we make friends with someone who might shape up to be a potential date, he'll find some small detail that supposedly doesn't align with his 'type'. Now, this wouldn't so infuriating if he could give us a solid read on what his actual 'type' is. Unfortunately, though he can always point out what _isn't_ his type, he can never seem to identify what _is_."

Tori snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. "Oh god, that does sound annoying." Feliks nodded, grinning.

"Oh, hell yeah it is." He jabbed a finger at Francis. "You remember Aikko?" Francis laughed.

"The one he shot down for being 'too nice'? Yeah, poor guy. And Samina? He said no to her because she had no talent for problem-solving." Tori was outright laughing now as Feliks, Francis and even Antonio continued to pitch in examples.

"Wow, I would not think he would be so picky." She said, still giggling. Feliks shrugged.

"I mean he had some asshole exes but I don't get it either." He grinned at her. "The day Matthias finds someone who is his type is the day anything becomes possible." Tori grinned, jabbing him softly.

"And are you that selective?" she teased. Feliks grinned.

"I have no major preferences, really, though there are a few constants." Tori quirked an eyebrow.

"Oh? Such as?" Feliks shrugged, absently reaching out to tuck a lock of loose hair behind her ear.

"Oh, I don't know. I seem to prefer brunettes. I can't stand pushovers, as well. I like to have someone with a lot of spirit." He glanced sideways at Tori, who was watching him intently. He noted the freckles across her nose. "Freckles are cute, too." He said casually. She flushed red slightly. He could see Francis grinning at him and mouthing 'smooth' in his peripheral vision. Feliks grinned at Tori, who cleared her throat and smiled back, obviously trying to ignore the vibrant colour on her cheeks.

Emilia Bondevik, who had been sitting on the fringes of the circle watching the whole conversation fly by her, sat forwards a little and spoke up.

"That reminds me, Tori, you mentioned wanting to show some of these guys around your tent, didn't you?" Tori blinked in surprise, them smiled and nodded.

"Oh yeah, that's right!" she said, looking back at Feliks. "It's nothing fancy, but I'm quite proud of it." she looked around the circle. "If any of you wanna come and see it, I'm sure I can get away with that." Francis hummed, made eye contact with Feliks, and grinned.

"Maybe another day. This patch of ground is shockingly comfortable, so I'm considering having a nap." Antonio voiced his immediate agreement, and the others also pitched in, the excuses ranging from 'I'm too tired' to 'that fighter is hot, I'm gonna stay and ogle his ass for a bit'. Everyone said no, that is, until Francis spoke up again. "I'm sure that Feliks would love to go, though." Tori turned to him expectantly. Francis and Emilia winked at him in tandem over her shoulder. He nodded, smiling at her.

"I'd love to see it." he said sincerely. Tori grinned and glanced over at where the supervisor was standing, honestly not doing too much supervising.

"She doesn't look like she's paying attention." She turned back and shrugged a shoulder. "I don't think she would notice if we slipped out for a little while." A sly grin crept over Feliks' face as she pulled him to his feet and yanked him in the direction of the exit, ignoring the low wolf-whistle that Francis let out and the overdramatic weeping and applause supplied by Emilia and Antonio. He pointedly gave them the finger as he and Tori slipped out of the gates without the supervisor noticing, and heard only a sharp bark of laughter before the gates shut with a soft click.

Tori grinned at him as he followed her through the maze of tents and tables that made up the resistance. The sun was reflecting off her dark brown hair and practically igniting the deep green colour of her eyes. She eventually led him to one tent in particular. It was small, but she clearly had it to herself, a rare privilege among rebel fighters, as far as he was aware.

The interior was humble, as she had already made clear, but very pleasant regardless. Her bed was set up along one wall, with sheets and blankets in disarray. He smiled at that. She had never been the clean and tidy type, and certainly didn't seem to be interested in breaking her habits. She had a desk against the other wall, stacked with books and papers that, on closer inspection, he could see were about Daerna and it's culture. She had a multicoloured rug on the ground, in addition to a few odd crates that he was pretty sure she had been using as chairs and side-tables.

One corner of the room was devoted to a pile of dirty clothes, and another to weapons and other tools. He turned back to face her as she surveyed the room, looking mildly nervous.

"I know it's pretty messy, but it's mine." She said, shrugging.

"It's very you." Feliks said honestly, sticking his hands in his pockets. "I like it." Tori smiled, nudging a rogue sock into the clothes pile before stepping closer to him.

"Thanks." She looked up at him, and he appreciated the excellent view of her green eyes that his superior height provided him. "I was going to say, while you all got to harp on about what your 'type' is, I didn't really get the chance to."

"Oh?" Feliks said, directing all of his focus towards her. "Do tell." She smiled and bit her lip softly.

"Well, first and foremost, I need to be treated with respect. I like it when my talents and strengths are recognised rather than being dismissed because I'm shorter or slimmer than someone else. I also like people who have a bit of a sense of humour." She commented. "I don't mind the serious, world-weary types – I mean, Lukas is one and he's one of my closest friends – but I like to be able to joke around with someone." Feliks nodded.

"And what else?" he asked, voice quieter than normal. Tori smiled again.

"I like the brave ones, people who are willing to throw themselves into dangerous situations for me. Loyalty is a big thing too. I don't mind if they're a bit rougher around the edges, so long as they're good at heart." Feliks hummed.

"Any preferences appearance-wise?" he questioned, voice soft. Tori grinned, stepping a little closer.

"Oh, I'm not picky," she said in a very blasé manner as she reached out to fiddle with a strand of his hair. "I quite like blonds, though."

"Do you?" he murmured, smiling again. "That's convenient." Tori grinned. He cautiously reached out with his hands, letting them hover over her hips until she indicated with a nod that he could place them there. He pulled her closer. "You know, I could have sworn at one point that you were talking about me." Tori quirked an eyebrow cheekily as she moved her arms up to loop around his shoulders.

"Really? That's funny, I thought the same thing when you were describing your type."

"That is funny." He murmured, shifting closer and sliding his arms around her torso so he had her in a gentle embrace. She sighed softly and tightened her grip on his neck. He turned his face sideways and kissed her cheek.

"Oi." She muttered, drawing away, feigning sternness before smiling again. She gently tapped her lips. "Here first." Feliks breathed out softly.

"Yes, your majesty." He murmured, letting a smile break out over his face as he kissed her

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
15th Juillat_

 _The voices from down the hall were getting louder and harsher. He retreated backwards a little, toes curling as he shuddered with cold. It normally didn't bother him but tonight the chill had sunk down to his bones. He felt sick. He wanted to be sick. He heard a scream, single and drawn out. A sob reached his ears next._

 _He shuffled forwards, ignoring how the cold sliced through his bare feet. He pressed himself against the cool marble of one of the throne room's massive columns. From here, he knew that he couldn't be seen by people over the other side of the room. The gentle curvature of the columns provided cover for him. He felt sick. He wanted to be sick._

 _He risked a look through the gaps in the columns, catching a glimpse of figures clothed in black and grey. The language they spoke was unfamiliar and strange, he didn't understand any of it. His parents were dragged into view. His papa looked scared. His mama had her eyes closed. She was the one sobbing. Tears were running rapidly down her face. He felt his stomach churn._

 _One of the fighters pulled out a knife, long and sharp. Bile surged up his throat-_

He was going to be sick.

Lukas threw the covers off himself hastily, jumping down from his bunk with far more force than he had intended, resulting in a loud thudding reverberating around the barracks as he stumbled, disoriented and still only half-awake, before darting to the door, tugging it open and bolting outside.

He didn't keep track of how far he went, staggering beyond the yard, away from the barracks and towards the line of thick, dark trees that marked the beginning of a thick coniferous forest. He stumbled and doubled over in the thick snow, realising that he had wandered into the midst of a gathering storm as he vomited profusely onto the ground. He gagged, wrapping his arms tight around his stomach as he retched and heaved. He screwed his face up in disgust upon realising that he had also managed to throw up partially on himself. There was bile slicked down his right arm and splattered over some of his leg. He shuddered, stomach and throat aching as he let himself slide down onto his knees. He hugged himself tightly, both unable and unwilling to climb to his feet again. He wanted this to just _end_. Why did his parents keep haunting him?

He could feel tears, hot and fast, slipping down his face as he hunched in on himself and pressed his hands to the frigid snow beneath him. This fear…this irrevocable demon that was plaguing his footsteps and hounding him in his sleep had to go. He had no clue why it had chosen now to strike, but he needed to exorcise it, and quickly.

* * *

Matthias had been held tight in the grips of a pleasantly non-sensical dream when a loud thud echoed through his head, interrupting whatever delightful idiocy his mind was conjuring. He felt a flutter of discomfort – consciousness threatening to break through his warm haze. The sound, loud as it was, seemed to be an outlier. He only slipped deeper into the haze of sleep for a moment before a series of thuds, much quieter but more insistent, and followed by a loud slamming noise, broke through his defences completely.

He felt awareness seep back in slowly, before he was blinking sleepily and looking sluggishly around the dark barracks. He could hear Ansel stirring on the bunk above his, but other than that, the room was quiet. He looked around as he awoke fully, sitting up as much as possible in the shallow bunk, wondering what could have roused him from his sleep. The vague memory of a loud thudding made itself known, and he groaned, cracking his joints as he clambered out of his bunk to stretch properly.

The edges of blankets above him brushed along his face as he stood, and he frowned as he registered that they were Bondevik's. A cursory glance at the bunk where his irritating charge should be sleeping, however, revealed nothing. It was empty. He felt the edge of alarm and confusion trickle through him. Where in the system was the kid? He reached out and brushed the covers, frown deepening when he found they were cold. That dissolved his short-lived theory that the guy was in the bathroom or something. He hadn't been in bed for a while, and, granted, it was freezing everywhere on Fynkn, even in the barracks, his bed wouldn't be so cold if he had only been gone for a few minutes.

Matthias stumbled towards the end of his bed, rummaging around in his clothes hamper for his coat as he resigned himself to sacrificing sleep to find the kid. His and his friends' freedom depended on the prince not dying, so he doubted that Yao would appreciate it if he straight up _lost_ him. He pulled the thick, warm coat on and yanked on a pair of boots, taking care to tread lightly and avoid making noise. A careful look around showed everyone else in the barracks tucked away in their beds. He could see Riya bundled up in her blankets from here, and given that Bondevik didn't seem to be one for making many friends, that crossed out the option that he had gone to talk to someone.

He trudged over to the bathroom and found they were also empty. His gaze slid to the door, recalling the loud slam that had helped to wake him. Why the guy would have gone out in this weather, he didn't know. He could tell from the low whistling of the wind that it was probably very blustery, if not snowing, outside. He glanced at Bondevik's clothes hamper, which looked closed and full. He likely didn't have a jacket on him. He frowned, concern pushing it's way into his mind unhelpfully. He repressed it. he didn't have time to get all mother-hen-like. He needed to find the guy, first and foremost.

Bracing himself, Matthias crept over to the door, noting that it was closed, but unlatched. So, the kid had gone outside. He opened it, ducked outside and shut it solidly behind him.

It was somehow even darker outside than it was inside. He had been right about the snow; it was swirling wildly in a strong wind. He blinked, pressing his back against the wood. The visibility he had was incredibly low, and considering that he was hardly used to wandering around in a blizzard, it was incredibly unlikely that he would even be able to find the kid. He should just go inside and get back into bed. It wasn't his fault that Bondevik had decided to go out into the worst weather possible.

And yet…

He sighed, recalling the dark circles he had seen under the Fynknian's eyes in the last few weeks, circles he had not had when they'd properly met back on Nyma. There was something bothering him, but whatever it was, he clearly wasn't in the mood to share it with Matthias, which suited him just fine. But regardless of whatever it was that the guy was going through, he was clearly suffering, in his own, quiet way. And he was likely outside in the middle of a blizzard, with no sort of protection against the ice and cold. A jackass he might be, he was only 19 years old. A kid, really.

"Fuck." he growled as he pushed himself off the wall and stumbled forwards, hands finding the railings after a moment of mindlessly groping the air. Cautiously sliding his foot forwards until he found the edge of the balcony and the stairs that led down, Matthias carefully navigated his way down to the ground. His feet immediately sunk down into about a foot of snow. For a lot of people, this would have posed a problem, but given that he was 6'2'', it was less of a hassle for Matthias to handle.

He stumbled forwards, half-blind in the snow, cursing himself for not just taking his own suggestion and going to bed. He scanned the area, looking for anything even remotely person-shaped. Damn Fynknians and their stupid arctic planet. The minute he was able to get out of here, he would. He glanced behind him. He could still see the barracks through the heavy snow, thankfully, so he wouldn't be stranded out here all night looking for a royal brat.

He lost count of the minutes as he scanned the area, yelling out Bondevik's name a few times to try and find him (the alias, of course, Matthias wasn't an idiot), but he got no response. He sighed heavily, moving forward a little more and looking around. His eyes settled on one part of the haze that looked a fraction darker than the rest, and he moved forwards cautiously, speeding up when he realised that it indeed looked like a person, hunched over. Well, he had found the prince, at least.

* * *

Lukas only became aware of the storm a while after it had started, and by the time he had become aware of it, he had also realised that he had clue what direction to go to find the barracks and clean himself up. Still shaking with horror and fighting nausea, he had curled further in on himself and tried to block out the whistling of the wind as cold slowly started to bleed through his limbs. The howling of the wind was loud enough to drown out every noise but the pounding of his own heart. He shuddered, this time with cold rather than dread.

After maybe twenty minutes of sitting in his hunched position, his ears picked up on the slightest change in the howling noise around him. It grew louder, and his mind had just realised that the irregular noises were in fact footsteps when he felt a warm pressure on his shoulder. He jolted slightly with surprise, and twisted his frigid face to look at who was stupid enough to follow him out into the storm. The frowning, concerned face of Matthias Køhler met his vision, and he felt confusion surge up inside him.

"Saints, kid, what are you doing?" Matthias said, kneeling down and forward so that Lukas could hear him. "Do you _want_ to have all of your limbs amputated?" Lukas didn't respond, bowing his head against the cold and tightening the grip he had on his own arms. He heard a muttered curse as Matthias shuffled closer to him, extending a hand to rest on his arm. Casting his gaze down, Lukas blinked in surprise when he noticed that there was frost crusted thickly on his sleeves and pants. He heard a light shuffling, and reached out to place a stilling hand on Matthias' arm when he realised that the bounty hunter was moving to remove his own jacket.

"I can handle the cold." He murmured, just loudly enough to be heard. Matthias gave him a disbelieving look. He could understand why. He was shuddering like a leaf, and he knew that his hands and face were probably more grey or blue than normal at this point. Cold couldn't kill a Bondevik, but it could definitely still harm them, in excess. The bounty hunter ultimately seemed to ignore his words, shrugging off his jacket and throwing it around Lukas' shoulders before tugging him to his feet. The coat was incredibly warm, immediately enveloping him in a comforting heat. He nuzzled his stinging face into the warm folds as he stumbled after Matthias through the heavy snow and harsh winds.

The sharp stab of prickling fear that they wouldn't be able to find the barracks again was doused after a few minutes, when he saw the shadow of a building emerging through the swirling snow ahead of them. Evidently, even though he had ended up getting turned around and confused, Matthias had managed to keep his wits about him. He pressed himself closer to the bounty hunter, though he wasn't sure if it was out of a desire to leech off his warmth, share the comfort of the coat, or just prevent himself from getting lost. His foot connected with something hard and wooden, and he felt relief flood his system as Matthias hurried him up the stairs and into the barracks of Block D. Matthias shut the door decisively behind them as Lukas pressed his shaking back to the wall.

The light inside the barracks was low; he would hardly see better in here than he had been able to outside. Regardless of the darkness, he could feel Matthias' eyes on him, and he tentatively allowed his abilities to snake out of their confines. He expected the bounty hunter to be annoyed, irritated, indignant, even. He would certainly understand why.

And yet…he wasn't?

Lukas frowned in confusion. The bounty hunter, his assigned protector and general pain in the ass was…worried. About him. He recoiled slightly as he felt the blond's hand on his arm again, unsure of how to deal with the information. Matthias didn't say anything, just gently pulled on his arm and led him towards the bathrooms. He braced himself, expecting some sort of lecture or the smart remarks that the Rywanese man had already become known for.

But he didn't say a word.

Not one sound came from his mouth as he pulled his coat off Lukas' shoulders, or when he noted the vomit that was still splattered all over him. He didn't speak even when he silently helped Lukas clean the remaining bile off, or soak his blue-tinged feet and hands in hot water. He didn't say anything even as Lukas ducked over to his bunk to pull clean, warm clothes on before clambering up, being careful not to disturb Ansel as he climbed. He was preparing to turn away and forget that this whole thing had ever happened when he felt Matthias' hand, yet again, gently on his arm.

"Next time that happens, come to me before you run off like a madman. I can't promise that I'll be of any use, but it's better than getting frostbite." Lukas didn't say anything, but Matthias didn't wait for a response before removing his hand and sliding into his own bunk. Silence fell, complete and resolute. Lukas exhaled slowly, but when he heard nothing else from the bounty hunter, he quietly lay down, trying to put his troubled and confused thoughts to rest.


	24. Getting Ready to Rumble

**YASSSSS I'M BACKKKKKKKK! This time with a regular update!**

 **Man, writing and inspiration are weird. I can go weeks without having an idea, or I can do what I did with this chapter. This entire, almost 12,000-word monster was written in about 8 hours one afternoon. No, I can't quite believe that either. It's crazy long, yes, I'm sorry, but I'm proud of it! It's essentially 60% Dennor, 20% broken noses, 15% sleeping and 5% actual plot.**

 **KIKI! THE TIME IS NOW! THE SCENE FIT SO I WROTE IT! AND I LOVE IT!**  
 **Yes! Huge shoutout to KikiTwinTai2! The snowball scene (and especially Riya's snarky comment) came to life only because of their imagination! Thank youuuuuuuuuuuu!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Feliciano and Inkar tracked down Cahya Maharani, and after bargaining with her, Feliciano (very reluctantly) slept with her in exchange for information and passage to Barkhado Dirie's next location.**  
 **\- After literal months of flirting and teasing back-and-forth, Feliks and Tori finally kissed and got together! Yay!**  
 **\- Lukas had another awful nightmare and ran out into the middle of a storm. Matthias ran out to find him, and managed to bring him back to the barracks.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Mentions of injuries and vomiting. The usual bad language.**  
 **\- One-on-one combat violence. Some blood, broken bones (especially noses rip). Not sure if this could be upsetting for people, but there is man on woman and woman on man violence. Just wanted to make sure!**  
 **\- Disgusting levels of dennor. If you don't ship it, tread carefully.**

 **Please review, for the sake of my aching fingers! I only got 1 review for the last chapter so huge shoutout to Lieutenant Tree for that! The rest of you are lowkey disappointing, ngl.**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
15th Juillat_

"You need to be careful with burns, of course, and treatment varies according to how severe they are, but the general rule of thumb is to get the burned area under running water as soon as possible. Don't put ice on it, that'll only make it worse." Gilbert nodded along, committing the information to memory as he watched Matthew carefully tend to a nasty burn on a quiet girl's hand. He observed as Matthew performed similar treatment as he had done for him, dousing the burn in rubbing alcohol before bandaging it.

"Ugh, why didn't anyone tell me there was so much to remember?" Gilbert groaned, rubbing his eyes wearily. Matthew grinned at him.

"This is only basic first-aid you know, real doctors have to know a shit-ton more than basic medics do. That's why everyone loves Kabeeta so much, you know, she's one of the smartest people here." Gilbert nodded, considering just how much Kabeeta would have to know. He had felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information dumped on him about nerve endings and muscle structure from making bionic limbs. He couldn't imagine needing to know that much about the _whole damn body_. What little he had learned was already making his head spin.

He shifted his eyes away from the nasty burn Matthew was treating, stomach turning slightly. Matthew gave him a sympathetic grin, then steered him away from the aggrieved woman after finishing up her bandages and nodding politely along to her thanks.

"Ugh, sorry." He muttered when he and Matthew were a decent distance away. "I just…"

Matthew shrugged, washing and disinfecting his hands and leaning against the countertop as Gilbert did the same. "You felt nauseous, right? That's nothing to be embarrassed about. Nausea is probably one of the few constants among medical trainees." Gilbert made a dissenting sound in the back of his throat as he dried his hands.

"I know, but it's not like I've never seen a gory wound before. I've seen people get shot! Hell, _I've_ been shot and I'm feeling sick just looking at a burn?"

"In all fairness, it was a third-degree burn." Matthew commented. "And yeah, that isn't surprising. Different types of wounds affect people differently, and I don't mean just in terms of the victim. Medics get like that too." Gilbert stayed silent, and Matthew continued. "I mean, I had a female trainee who could patch up stab wounds and set broken legs with untold of efficiency. But the second she saw a nosebleed? Down for the count. There's no reason to it. I mean, if anything, being a woman, she has even less of an excuse of being icky around blood than others would."

Gilbert grinned a little at that. "Hey, that's true. Do you just find her passed out in a bathroom once a month or…?" Matthew rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"No, she just very specifically can't handle nosebleeds." He shrugged. "I don't know why. No-one does. Even the most experienced medics and doctors get injuries that they can't mentally deal with, you know." He paused. "I mean, I've been trained as a medic since I was 14, and I still come across situations that my stomach and I can't handle." Gilbert cocked a curious eyebrow.

"Oh? Really?" Matthew nodded.

"Mmhmm. Now, do keep in mind that I only became a medic in the first place as an excuse to get into a fighting zone so I could get combat experience. I mean, I took a gun with me all the time so I was fighting and healing in equal measure." Gilbert couldn't suppress a snort at that. It sounded very much so like something Matthew would do. Matthew grinned. "My point is, I've been exposed to the most gruesome of injuries from my very early teen years, so, hypothetically, I should be able to handle anything, right?" Gilbert shrugged.

"Hypothetically speaking, yeah."

"Hypothetically speaking." Matthew repeated. "But I can't. About a year ago we had a guy dragged in here who had been disembowelled. Half his intestines were hanging over his legs." Gilbert made a face, and Matthew nodded. "Yeah, I thought the same thing. I took one look at the guy and vomited on the poor girl standing next to me." Gilbert winced in sympathy. "Yeah, she was not too happy about it, but she understood. Point is, everyone has different tolerance levels. Mine seems to stop at 'complete disembowelment'."

"And mine stops at 'angry burns'? Superb." Matthew gave him a look.

"You can build up your tolerance over time, not to mention, you recently got burned yourself. You could have unconsciously associated your own pain with hers, and when that happens, injuries can be a lot harder to deal with. Empathy is a hell of a thing." Gilbert nodded. Matthew smiled at him, clapping him on the shoulder and letting his hand rest there. "You'll be just fine, I'm sure." Matthew pulled his hand away, but Gilbert only had a second to wish for it's return before he found the rebel looping their arms together. "Now come on, lunch is on!"

He could do little more than grin as he was pulled out of the med tents by the grinning blond, and he hoped that his blush was less visible than it felt.

* * *

Gilbert knew that Matthew was probably right about the tolerance thing, but that didn't mean that he wasn't irritated by how all-over-the-place his seemed to be. He found himself helping stem blood flow from bullet wounds and tourniqueting limbs gushing blood with ease, yet found himself turning away and pressing a hand to his mouth after watching a young man vomit profusely.

"Sympathetic vomiting is a real thing, you know." Matthew said, appearing at his side. "I get that too, sometimes." He made a face at the afflicted man on the other side of the med hall while Gilbert tried to block out the sickening sounds. "Danik has food poisoning. It'd be different if you knew he was on meds making him puke or something similar."

Gilbert was just intrigued enough by this to remove his hand from his mouth and inquire.

"Why's that?" Matthew shrugged, placing the basket of fresh linens he was holding on the floor and steering Gilbert away when he noted the slightly green pallor of his skin. He steered him into a seat near one of the tent openings, and he gulped in the fresh air gratefully, relaxing a little as he felt his nausea somewhat disperse.

"Some people think it's an evolutionary thing." Matthew continued. "Like if someone throws up right after eating, you would feel more like vomiting yourself than you would if they had been punched in the gut or something." Gilbert nodded slowly, still not entirely sure where Matthew was going with this. The blond smiled softly. "Well, yeah, evolution. Back in the day, groups of people normally all ate the same thing, so if that food caused one person to throw up, it could be inferred that it was in some way harmful. So the people who vomited sympathetically would be less likely to be harmed. Of course, that isn't the case now, but most people think that trait still persists."

"Ugh, fucking evolution." He grumbled, massaging his temples. Matthew grinned.

"Oh, come on now. If not for evolution, we'd all still probably have tails or something." Matthew paused, frowning. "Actually no, yeah, fuck evolution, I want a tail." Gilbert chuckled at that. Matthew reached over and placed a hand on his forehead. "Hmm, your temperature feels fine, but you still look a little pale."

"I'm an albino, I'm always pale." He retorted. Matthew rolled his eyes.

"I mean paler than usual, idiot." He said fondly. "I might ask Kabeeta if we can be released early." Gilbert thought about protesting that for a minute, but conceded that he would appreciate a break, and sat back on the chair rubbing his eyes as Matthew ducked over to speak to the head doctor. He returned a minute later, grinning victoriously before escorting Gilbert out the med tent and into the sunlight. They walked alongside each other, chatting as Gilbert tried to focus on Matthew's words rather than the way the wind sent his fair hair tumbling around, or how the light on his face made his violet eyes shine.

Gilbert forced his attention away. He shouldn't feel so hopeful, but he couldn't help it. Tori and Feliks' recent get-together had him thinking about romance more than ever, and thoughts of romance and love nowadays more often than not led his thoughts straying towards Matthew. He shouldn't linger on something that was likely unattainable, but hey, he could dare to dream.

"Oh, hey, there's Yao." Matthew said suddenly, drawing Gilbert out of his daze as his companion turned to look at him. "Do you mind coming while I talk to him for a minute?" Gilbert shrugged, realising as he followed Matthew over to the intimidating Yanishman that he probably should have just made up an excuse and scurried off elsewhere.

He wasn't important or unique enough to have garnered much of the resistance leader's attention as, say, Arthur had. And Gilbert was fine with that. He loved attention, yes, but only from certain people. Yao was one of the few people who Gilbert didn't want to be scrutinised by. Unfortunately, he had just let himself get led into a situation where scrutinising could be expected. As someone who had joined the resistance voluntarily, rather than through coercion, he knew that he was less suspicious than others, but as a former criminal and bounty hunter, he knew that Yao likely still wasn't delighted about his presence.

Matthew walked up to the man unflinchingly, though. Of course, he had known Yao, by his own admission, for almost seven years by this point, so there was hardly any reason for him to feel intimidated. Gilbert hunched his shoulders and trailed after him, hoping that he could go unnoticed.

"Yao!" Matthew called cheerily over the top of the people bustling around and murmuring nearby. The Yanishman straightened up and looked over at Matthew, and Gilbert blinked in shock. The rebel, who he had, up until this point, only ever seen with high-collared shirts and jackets, or a scarf slung on, had his neck exposed completely. A horrific scar, obviously some sort of Yanish word that had been carved into his skin, stood out starkly on the side of his neck. Gilbert felt a chill run down his spine. It was easy to assume that a person had been through a lot by the way they conducted themselves and acted, but it was another to see evidence that they had suffered in the past.

There were other scars dotted around his neck and the small parts of his collarbone that were visible. Gilbert tore his eyes away, only to meet a grimacing Matthew's eyes. Upon turning his gaze back to Yao, he could see that the man had his gaze fixed on Gilbert, having noticed his incessant staring. Gilbert felt his stomach sink and his cheeks heat up rapidly.

"Uhh, I'm sorry, sir." He murmured. He heard Yao sigh, then watched as he waved a hand absently.

"It doesn't matter. I've gotten worse reactions." Yao said, tone shockingly void of anger, discomfort and irritation as he turned to Matthew. "What did you need?"

Matthew brightened, obviously trying to dispel the lingering awkwardness. "I was going to inquire about the proposed mission to the Red Pike sir." And then he was off, rambling on about different aspects and opportunities provided by the apparent upcoming mission. Gilbert watched Yao's face carefully to see if he really was bothered by his staring, but he saw nothing.

In fact, it wasn't just anger or irritation that Yao's face was devoid of, but…well, _everything_. His face didn't change at all while he listened to Matthew speak, and when he interjected to answer questions, his tone was flat and dull. Gilbert felt his brows furrowing deeper and deeper the longer he observed him. He didn't exactly spend a lot of time with Yao, but he was normally a rather more animated person, especially in terms of his facial expression. He had gotten that much from the small amounts of briefing Yao had given them before the Xi Lan Ey mission.

Gilbert could tell by the end of his questioning that Matthew was a little confused too. His speech was becoming more hesitant and cautious, as if he was afraid of setting the older man off or something. Gilbert could see Yao's attention wandering as Matthew asked who would be going on the mission. The man's gaze went glazed and fixed, and he tilted his head to the side slightly, as if thinking about something. Matthew trailed off, shooting a mildly concerned look at Gilbert before trying to get Yao's attention.

"Uhh, Yao? Sir?" he asked, raising his voice. Yao jerked a little, expression clearing as he focused back on Matthew.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I zoned out a little there." The Yanishman rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry, can you repeat that, Matthew?" Even his apology sounded lacklustre, like he was too tired to inject emotion into his voice.

Matthew hesitated, biting his lip before asking again. "I just wanted to know who was slated to go on the mission, sir."

"Ahh, yes. Kirkland is going, since this is his contact, after all. Zwingli, too. They're going to stop by Rela briefly to scope it out before continuing on to the Red Pike. It might give him a chance to bargain with Dirie for whatever she took from him, too. I was considering that it might be helpful to send another few along, just to keep an eye on both of them. I've already agreed to let Elizabeta go along – she's been hammering me for a mission for ages, honestly. But yes, I still need some others."

Matthew seemed to forget his concern for a moment as he straightened up. "I can go, if you need. I get along with Arthur and Elizabeta, and I'm sure the assassin won't give us too much trouble, since we are also trying to help him in a roundabout way." Yao scrutinised him for a moment.

"…Yes, okay. If your brother is free he can go to. Kirkland tends to behave more when he's around." Yao thought for a minute as Matthew grinned victoriously. His gaze slid over to Gilbert. "Mr Beilschmidt. Have you ever been to the Red Pike before?" Gilbert started a little at being addressed directly, but nodded.

"About two or three times, yeah." Yao nodded.

"And you are a mechanic too, correct?" Gilbert nodded again. Yao hummed.

"Alright, you can go too then. Matthew, I'm trusting to keep them all under control." Matthew nodded, straightening.

"You got it." he threw a grin at Gilbert. "Gilbert will help me out, won't you?" he flushed, but nodded again.

"Uhh, sure, if you need it." he mumbled. Yao nodded, looking like his attention was straying again.

"Okay, good. Get yourselves ready. You'll be leaving at some point tomorrow." Matthew nodded, hesitating.

"Yao…" he trailed off, pausing as Yao turned to look at him again. "…are you okay?" he asked. Yao blinked but, consistent with the rest of the conversation, his face didn't change.

"I'm fine." He murmured. "Go prepare yourself and the others." Matthew rocked backwards on his feet before nodding and jogging over to Gilbert. He glanced over his shoulder as they wandered away from Yao, frowning as he saw the man flinch and rub at one of his ears, almost like someone had just yelled directly into it. He shook his head and face the front again, only to see an expression of conflicted worry on Matthew's face.

"So…" he murmured, "I take it that was not normal behevaiour for him." Matthew shook his head.

"Not at all." He muttered. "He only evers tries to hide his emotions when something bad has happened, but it didn't even look like he was stressed just then…" he hesitated as he sought what words to use, "it just looked like his face didn't know how to react to what I was saying. Not to mention, if something major had happened, he would tell me." Matthew glanced over his shoulder. "I worry about him sometimes." Gilbert hummed.

"Can't say that I have any advice on how to help, sorry." Matthew shot him a sad smile.

"If I knew how to help him I would've already. The guy's been through a lot, let's just say that."

Gilbert winced. "That scar on his neck…" Matthew closed his eyes briefly before opening them again.

"Yeah. His experiences make hardcore torture documentaries look like child's play." Gilbert flinched. So, the leader of the resistance had been tortured. That thought was far more unpleasant than he had expected it to be.

"Poor guy." He murmured. Matthew nodded.

"I agree, but don't let him hear you say that. He resents being pitied." Matthew said simply. He gently nudged Gilbert in the ribs. "Don't let it get to you. Yao's a really strong guy. Now come on, we need to go find my brother."

Gilbert forced a smile to his face. "Mmhmm. Let's hope he isn't attached to Arthur when we track him down." Matthew groaned as Gilbert cackled with laughter, elbowing him with a little more force this time.

"Let's just go. Come on, I'll race you." And without any warning, Matthew took off, sprinting gracefully across the commons. Gilbert yelped in surprise and bolted after him, yelling about the unfairness and injustice all the way.

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
16th Juillat _

Lukas didn't want to get out of bed. Objectively speaking, he knew that he had to. Today was their third last day. Their allotted one-on-one fights started today, and he had to throwdown with Elin Markus again. He knew that he _had_ to get out of bed. But he didn't want to. He was still exhausted. His nightmares hadn't sent him bolting outside last night, but they had kept him awake and retching into a toilet bowl for over two hours. Matthias had stumbled out of bed at one point and fetched him a glass of water and a blanket to wrap around his shoulders while he sat slumped against the bathroom wall, but he had firmly sent the Rywanese man back to bed shortly after. He didn't need to be mothered.

He sighed in relief as the alarm overhead shut off, burrowing down into his blankets and letting his disturbed sleep wash over him again. He felt fuzzy and comfortable, and he really didn't want to get out. Sergeant Kolden had told them that they had wouldn't start their one-on-one fights until after breakfast this morning anyway, so he supposed that he could just skip out on food to make up for his lost sleep. Besides, it wasn't like he had never survived on little or no food before. He vaguely felt someone shaking his arm and murmuring his name, but when he failed to respond, the warm hand retreated and the voice fell silent. He sighed softly and pressed his face further into his pillow, grateful to slip deeper into sleep.

When he started to surface from his sleep next, he had no clue what time it was. He sat up suddenly, almost slamming his skull against the ceiling in the process. His stomach turned unpleasantly, and he scrambled to get out of bed and check the analog clock at the end of the room. 7:07am. He felt sick. Their wake up call had been over an hour ago. What if they had already started their one-on-one fights?

Lukas yanked his clothes out of his trunk and yanked them on so fast he feared he would tear the fabric. He tied his boots faster than he had ever managed to do in his life, and bolted outside. The sharp cold hit him like a slap in the face, and he blinked in surprise. The training grounds were empty, but Kolden had never specified where they would be doing their combat matches. For all he knew, they could be in some isolated location right now. He sagged, wrapping his arms around himself as he cursed his own stupidity.

"Oi! There you are!" he started as he heard Riya's voice. Looking to the side, he saw her and Matthias wandering towards him, not looking stressed in the slightest. He blinked in surprise. They both knew how important this whole thing was to him, so it didn't stand that they would be so relaxed if they were rushing to start or something similar. Riya gave him a small smile. "Ooh, I recognise that look on your face. Don't stress! We start matches in about fifteen minutes."

Matthias nodded. "Yeah. I tried to wake you up earlier but you wouldn't budge, so we left you there and asked Kolden. You missed our morning run, but he didn't give much of a shit since you normally have one of the best times anyway. Seemed content to let you sleep more. Thinks you need it." Lukas winced. While Matthias' words seemed innocuous enough, the look in his eyes told a different story. So Kolden knew he had been suffering from sleep disturbances. Maybe he even knew that it had been making Lukas physically sick. He didn't know how to feel about that.

Riya shrugged. "He sent us over to wake you up. We're going over the little ridge to some training grounds there for the matches. We're going about eight pairs at a time, I think." He nodded, still a little breathless from his mad scramble to get ready. Matthias straightened up, as if he had remembered something, and began rummaging around in his pockets.

"Aw yeah, that reminds me." He said, pulling an apple, thermos and wrapped package from the many pockets of his coat as he spoke, "I grabbed you some food because you were still asleep." Lukas blinked in surprise as the rudimentary breakfast was dumped into his arms.

"I…" he trailed off, unsure of what to say. "Umm, thanks." Matthias shrugged, avoiding his eyes.

"Eh, I mean, you gotta eat, right?" Lukas nodded, examining the fare more closely. The wrapped package was full of toast, and the thermos contained hot, sweet tea. It was essentially the exact thing he always grabbed for breakfast. The bounty hunter was obviously very observant, to have remembered that. He looked up, raising a confused eyebrow when he spotted Riya giving Matthias an odd, pointed look while Matthias frowned at her, but brushed it off, immediately starting to eat the apple as the three of them set off across the grounds, obviously in the direction of the combat fields. Riya started recounting what Kolden had explained to everyone while Lukas was out.

"So essentially, we're fighting each other one-on-one. Winner goes to the next round and so on until we have the last two fighters and eventually a winner. It sounds like a long process, but given that the number of participants is halved every round, it should go by pretty quick." She darted out in front of him, when spun around and started walking backwards so she could face him as they talked. "Apparently all of the guerrilla squad leaders and some rather important personnel will be watching. Guerrilla squads were hit rather hard recently so there's more spaces open than usual." She paused momentarily. "Also, apparently they're all making bets on how we'll do."

Lukas raised an eyebrow as he finished another piece of toast, sipping on the tea. "That sounds unethical." Matthias supplied, frowning but looking amused at the same time. Riya nodded.

"I mean, it kinda is. They're passing judgement on us based solely on our appearances, which is shit, but if you really defy expectations, you'll stick out more." Lukas nodded as he started downing the last of the tea. Matthias hummed thoughtfully.

"Kolden said that our first few fights will all be Block D, but if we progress enough, we'll be put up to fight people from Block A as well. The officials and representatives have already made their picks from people from Blocks B and C, so we're the last bunch to be sorted through."

"Apparently their standards can be quite high." Riya said, sounding a little put out. "Anyone who gets out in the first two rounds goes straight to general combat. Apparently, the squads have a big bias towards Block A. Kolden told us to not get our hopes up too much." Lukas scowled. Matthias and Riya had been able to assuage the worst of his fears in the last few days, but as it really, properly hit him that today could determine where he was sent, he could feel all of his anxiety flooding back.

He barely had time to make a displeased face – and suppress a small smile when Matthias saw it, snorted and commented 'same' – before they turned a corner and found themselves at the combat fields. He blinked. He had been taking in the environment as they walked, but in a detached, distant sort of way. Now they were here, and he felt like it had happened far too quickly.

The combat fields sat in the shadow of one of the other, huge mountain peaks that rose jaggedly from the ground. It looked rather like a plateau, the ground composed of gritty, icy rock. It was surprisingly flat, even ground. It made it perfect for sparring, of course, but Lukas couldn't help but eye some ice patches which would undoubtedly claim a few victories.

On the right side of the small plateau, a series of tents had been set up. He could clearly see some marked out as med tents, while another had a group of severe-looking people dressed in military uniforms standing underneath it. The empty space of the ground had had long rivulets marked into it which, Lukas realised after a moment, would be acting as boundary lines between fighting pairs.

Kolden was standing next to Sergeant Kalis, the overseer of Block A, near a small, raised platform erected at the far end of the fields. He saw Kolden eye them as they hurried to stand with the rest of Block D, who were all standing somewhat stiffly on one side of the fields. He saw Kalis also glance at them, expression full of distaste.

"Now that we are all here." Kalis said, tone marked with irritation. "I shall explain how this system is to work. As you all know, you have been allocated partners for the first fight of today. After I have finished explaining, if you are in the first group of fights, I would like you to locate them. If not, you can go sit down on the sides. Now, concerning the specific nature of the fights today." Kalis eyed all of Block D with a frown. Lukas scowled. There was that bias that Riya had mentioned.

"A fight will be considered won if you knock your opponent out of the marked area or if you render them unable to fight anymore. For the first three rounds, the rounds of 64, 32 and 16, no weapons will be allowed. If you want to fight with weapons, you'll have to hope to make it to the last eight standing. If you get defeated, you are out. You will fight eight pairs at a time. We will be assessing you as you fight, as will the officials who have come here to scope out any new talent." Kalis paused and smiled at Block A as Matthias rolled his eyes, "They will also put in any requests. You will know by the 18th if you have been requested for a guerrilla squad or an advanced position. Now, Sergeant Kolden, I believe, has the list of the first eight pairs who will be fighting."

Kolden nodded and stepped forwards, pulling a clipboard out from behind him and speaking.

"The first eight pairs are; Shumser and Mikke; Heiberg and Langseth; Kleve and Thaulow; Moe and Lerum; Aarrestad and Nohr; Franzen and Preus; Juve and Monge; Saetern and Hellerud." The mentioned sixteen all shifted nervously, eyeing each other. Kolden nodded briefly. "If you aren't fighting or recovering, you're welcome to sit on the sidelines and watch, or go elsewhere and warm up."

Lukas sighed in relief as Riya and Matthias did the same on either side of him. So, none of them were up first. He was far more grateful of that than he was expecting. As everyone dispersed; some finding their sparring partner and others going to sit on the sidelines to watch, Lukas was surprised when Kolden approached him. He blinked in surprise as he saw Riya and Matthias exchange a confused look in his peripheral vision.

"Christensen, there you are." Kolden muttered. He eyed him. Kolden didn't look too stern, if anything, he looked a little drawn. "You doing okay?" Lukas blinked, again thrown off guard, but he nodded.

"Um, yeah. Just needed a little sleep in, I guess." Kolden hummed, watching him carefully.

"I see. And, you know, kid, I am strict, I won't pretend for a moment that I'm not, but getting out of bed to throw up almost every night would make me go easier on you." Lukas flinched. So Kolden was aware of the extent of his…issues. He could see Riya frowning at him in the corner of his eye, and resigned himself to having to explain it to her later.

"How the hell did you even know?" he asked wearily. Kolden tucked his clipboard under his arm.

"I always like to know how my recruits are doing behind closed doors." He said simply. Lukas sighed. That made sense. Kolden scrutinised him again. "May I ask what is causing this? I doubt that it's training. You're one of the fittest people in the Block." Lukas pressed his lips together.

"I'd rather not say." He muttered. Kolden shrugged.

"Fair enough. Do try your best today, though." He raised his head to address Matthias and Riya as well. "All three of you. I put money on you three to get to the round of 16." Lukas sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead, Riya stared at Kolden, unimpressed, and Matthias snorted. Kolden wandered off again, back to where Kalis was standing, as they prepared for the first round of fights to start. Matthias jerked his head to the side.

"Come on, let's find somewhere to watch." He said. Lukas and Riya nodded and drifted after him, glancing back at the fields as the pairs started to fight. Calla Modark, one of their fellow Block D patrons, waved them over, and they settled themselves into the snow next to them and watched the fights play out.

Riya hadn't been wrong when she'd said that there was going to be betting going on. Small groups of personnel seemed to have staked out each of the eight fighting spaces, and he could see a large amount of money exchanging hands. They seemed to be betting on the winner of the fights taking place in their specific square. Lukas rolled his eyes. It seemed a little insensitive to use this opportunity to make money, but at the same time, he supposed, one had to take fun where they could find it.

Calla pointed out Hanne Shumser, the brazen, muscle-bound woman from Block D, and they shuffled closer to her square, cheering whenever she landed a good hit. Matthias enthusiastically punched the air, almost catching Lukas in the side of the face, when Hanne knocked her opponent down and was, after it was discovered that they were unconscious, declared the winner.

Hanne practically skipped out of the ring, grinning widely. She kissed Calla on the cheek and high-fived Riya and Matthias. She was one of the first to win, but it only took about ten more minutes or so for the rest of the fights to end. After everyone had been escorted out of their squares and, if necessary, into the med tent, Kolden stepped up to the podium again.

"Alright. Group two; Bergo and Holien; Køhler and Brekke; Siem and Modark; Vekk and Casin; Janvik and Stray; Martinson and Oie; Holsif and Kristoff; Storlie and Riis." Matthias and Riya both jerked in surprise when they heard their surnames. Riya shrugged and got to her feet, nodding to Lukas and Hanne before marching off to find her opponent. Calla, who it seemed was also up in this round, winked at Hanne and darted off. Matthias hesitated. Lukas made eye contact with him.

"Good luck." He said. Matthias grinned cockily.

"Thanks. Shouldn't be too hard, hopefully." He scratched the back of his neck, threw Lukas another somewhat uncertain grin, and jogged after Riya and Calla. Lukas clambered to his feet, moving around the perimeter to get a better view of where Riya and Matthias would be fighting, while Hanne set off determinedly in Calla's direction. Skirting around the edge, he slid back onto the ground, eyes flickering between each one. Ansel looked miserable facing Matthias, while Riya's opponent, Gori Halsif, looked nothing short of terrified.

Lukas could hear people making bets behind him.

"I'm staying out, this round."

"Scared, Menko?"

"No, reasonable. That Rywani is gonna crush that runt, but there's no money in betting on him."

"-And you, Torre? Betting on the little girl or the underfed wimp?"

"The girl. She's _de fengslinger,_ right? I'm not betting against that."

Lukas rolled his eyes. He could only imagine what they would say when he stepped up to face Elin Markus.

The starting cue went off, and both Matthias and Riya dove into action.

Poor Ansel tried his best, he really did, but when it came down to it, Matthias was half a foot taller, two years older and a hell of a lot stronger than he was. The Rywanese man, at the very least, did make it mercifully quick. Ansel was pouting as he slunk off the field, having been rendered immobile by being dragged into a headlock, but he still congratulated Matthias as they stepped off. Matthias looked a little sheepish, but not guilty. He spotted Lukas and brightened, darting over as Ansel wandered off to look for food.

"Nice work." He commented simply. Matthias grinned.

"Ahh, thanks. I feel kinda bad for Ansel, though. It would have been a little fairer if they set us up with people our same height or weight, I think." Lukas shrugged.

"Maybe. But that's life, I guess. Not everything is going to end up fair." Matthias blinked, shaking his head slightly.

"God, you are just the physical manifestation of sunshine and rainbows, aren't you?" he teased. Lukas rolled his eyes, turning his attention fully to Riya's fight just in time to watch her kick Gori Halsif so hard that he flew straight out of the marked area. He heard the muttered curses of personnel behind him and the rustle of money exchanging hands as she was declared the winner.

The second group took a little longer than the first had, but after another fifteen minutes or so, all of the fights were over. Riya's opponent was taken to the med tent with suspected broken ribs, which she didn't look even remotely guilty about as she accepted Matthias' enthusiastic high-fives. From what he had observed, the average fight time seemed to be about seven minutes. The shortest thus far had been about 4 minutes. Not too long, but also just long enough that he questioned if the two finalists would even have the energy to fight one another at the end of the day. Then again, he supposed, endurance was an important trait for a soldier to have, too.

He was broken from his thoughts as Kolden stepped up to announce the next group. He felt his shoulders tighten.

"Group three; Justsen and Tveit; Christensen and Markus; Heggen and Nesset; Prestegard and Schau; Eike and Rud; Hovda and Korsmo; Ree and Fjeld; Asper and Holst. Find your partner and get to a square." Lukas blinked in shock as Riya gently nudged his side.

"Looks like you're up." She murmured, giving him a thumbs-up. Matthias patted him on the back encouragingly.

"You'll do great, now go find Markus' ugly mug." Lukas sighed but jumped to his feet, wandering around until he saw Markus waiting inside one of the squares. The giant of a man nodded at him, looking a little nervous as Lukas moved to stand across from him. He spotted Matthias and Riya jogging around the perimeter to watch him as he eyed Markus' tall frame, already speculating as to how he could take him down easily and efficiently.

The tents were close to where he was standing, and he could hear the officials betting on him and Markus. It made his lip curl.

"Who are you putting money on?"

"Are you shitting me? The big guy, obviously. I'm not completely stupid." He heard on of them scoff.

"Oh, I agree, I can't believe the types they let into training nowadays. He looks prone to blowing over in strong winds."

"Don't be disrespectful." He heard someone murmur. He glanced over and spotted Anga Lindholm, his father's cousin, the same woman who had put him and Matthias through the verification process when they had first arrived. She was standing off to the side, obviously watching the fights rather than engaging in the betting pool. The man who had spoken just before rolled his eyes.

"Come off it Lindholm. The boy just _looks_ weak." He sneered. "It's nothing more than using basic skills of deduction. He doesn't even look like he'd be able to reach the iron pin on Markus' lapel, much less beat him!" Lukas clenched his teeth, and he could see from the awkward shuffling of Markus' feet that the other man could hear and was feeling uncomfortable. He looked over at the group watching their fight.

Other than Anga and the sneering man, who he could see from his badges was a Colonel, two other men looking amused with the situation, a familiar woman in guerrilla garb, and a girl with short hair. With a shock, he recognised the last two. The woman was the Captain who had greeted him and Matthias when they'd first arrived, and the short-haired girl was one of the recovering fighters who had come with them from Nyma. The female Captain, noticing that he was watching them, smirked and elbowed the sneering man, who didn't even hesitate to sneer at Lukas to his face.

Ignoring him, he faced the front as the last pair darted into their square. Markus shifted into a more combat-ready stance, but Lukas could see from the look in his eyes that Markus wasn't expecting to win against him. He looked almost resigned. A flash of white-hot anger, a delayed reaction from hearing the watching man's dismissive assessment of him, surged to life. The shortest fight time so far was about four minutes. He could take Markus down in less than that.

The starting cue went off. The minute Markus had taken a step, Lukas shot forwards. What advantages Markus had in height and sheer strength, Lukas had in speed, agility and general strategy. Markus swung at him when he was in range, and he ducked, spinning to slam his leg into Marku's gut. The gentle giant staggered, and Lukas took the opportunity, while he was off-guard, to duck back down, the way he had come, and slam his elbow into Markus' solar plexus.

The wheeze of air leaving Markus' lungs brought a bitter smile to Lukas' face as he stumbled away, watching Markus carefully. The other man straightened up, expression a little more determined now, as he dived for Lukas again.

It was almost criminally easy. Though at first glance, Markus looked like the kind of person you would want on a combat team, he lacked finesse and technique. Lukas blocked the swing of his hand with his own arm, slammed his other elbow into Markus' chin so hard he heard a crack, hooked his leg behind Markus' dominant one while he was dazed and in pain, seized his chin and sent him sprawling to the ground. Before his opponent even had the chance to try and get up, he darted up, jumping onto his chest, slamming his foot onto the taller man's face and pressing downwards as blood leaked from Markus' now-broken nose.

"Stay down." He said simply, voice void of menace. Markus let out a shuddering breath and held up his hands.

"You win, Christensen, now up, off him." He hesitated a moment, leaning down to pull the iron pin from Markus' jacket before clambering off him. He pulled off his own scarf and offered it to the taller man to help him stem the bleeding from his nose. Lukas cast a look over at the spectators, almost all of whom seemed frozen in surprise. He straightened up, pin clasped in hand, and marched over.

"Look." He said, jerking his head at the man who had been sneering at him earlier. He tossed the pin to him. "I reached it." Lukas turned on his heel and strode away, not bothering to look back at whatever reaction that reckless aggravation may have caused. Matthias was on his back cackling with laughter while Riya was shaking her head, smiling slightly.

"That was fucking brilliant, oh my god." Matthias choked out. "You should have seen the look on his face." Riya shook her head.

"While I must dissent and say that was a little stupid and impulsive of you, well done." She said. now that the adrenaline was fading a little, Lukas felt a little cowed for doing something so stupid, especially to such a senior officer.

"Not everyone hated it, though." Matthias said, having finally managed to push himself back into a sitting position. He nodded at the tent, which was still in view. The female Captain was grinning, looking positively delighted with the turn of events. She caught Lukas' eye and winked, shooting him a subtle thumbs up as she did, before turning back to the front. He blinked. Well, that was surprising.

"While I appreciate that, she's a Captain, he's a Colonel." Riya shrugged at this.

"Yes, but that is also Captain Malin Thomassen, aka one of the guerrilla squad leaders." She smiled as Lukas spun to face her. "Considering that you want to get into a squad, I think that it's more important you impress her than him." He shrugged, blinking as he heard the next starting cue go off. He had been so absorbed in the conversation that he hadn't even noticed Kolden reading out the next set of names. The last set of the first round. Riya shook her head at his questioning look. "No-one we know." She sighed, shifting to lie on her back. "Wake me when I'm up next."

* * *

That turned out to not be necessary, as a loud alarm blared out when it was time for the second round to start. Riya grumbled, but they'd all gotten a good twenty minutes break after the last round had ended, so Lukas wasn't complaining too much. They, along with everyone else who had won their first round, walked to the middle of the fields.

Kolden and Kalis had gone the good-old-fashioned pull names out of a hat method for picking the next matchups.

Riya was pitted against another girl, named Martha Langseth. Matthias was to fight someone from Block A named Adrian Bergo, and Lukas found himself facing someone named Remi Sparre.

Since there were only 32 of them this time around, they only had two rounds of fights. All three of them ended up in the first round.

Lukas' opponent was a cocky man, clearly built for wielding knives, who seemed more focused on asking how Lukas had even gotten into the second round than he did on actually fighting. Lukas didn't want to wear himself out too much, and spent almost ten minutes dancing around the man's quick, heavy strikes before he felt Sparre run his arm up his side and mutter, "I'll have you later, you're pretty enough". Lukas suffered a long lecture from a supervisor for breaking two noses in the space of two hours, but he didn't feel too beat up afterwards. Riya, who had spotted Sparre's behaviour, hugged him by way of congratulations.

All three of them had ended up with relatively unchallenging opponents, as it had turned out, and they passed through to the next round easily. He spotted Kolden grinning and collecting money from Kalis, and recalled what the Sergeant had said about betting on them. He saw Riya and Matthias watching too, and they all rolled their eyes in unison.

"Alright." Kolden said, once again stood up at the podium. "We're going to break for lunch now. We'll return with the round of 16 in an hour and a half."

Lukas trailed after Riya and Matthias, sighing in annoyance whenever Matthias would reach behind him and bodily grab Lukas' arm to make him hurry up. He wasn't tired, just deep in thought, and he didn't appreciate being yanked out of it by a loud Rywanese man.

The dining hall was crowded when they piled in, but they got ushered to the front of the line by an officer. Lukas was delighted to find that Hanne and Calla had also made it to the final sixteen, and they sat with the pair, forcing down the unidentifiable food. Lukas' stomach was in knots, but he made himself eat anyway. Matthias seemed to notice, but didn't say anything, for which he was grateful.

Having not much else to do other than wait for it to be his turn to fight again, Lukas wandered back to the combat fields after he had finished eating. They were reshaping the rivulets on the ice, to widen them. Now, rather than eight squares, there were only four. He wandered over to the roster they had placed up, eyes skimming over the names of the final sixteen;

 _Belland, Christensen, Hovda, Janvik, Justsen, Kleve, Køhler, Kristoff, Modark, Myhr, Nerby, Schau, Shumser, Silnes, Storlie, Vekk._

He sighed, wondering which one of them he would be fighting, and, more importantly, if it was a fight he would be able to win.

"I was going to say earlier, nice win against Markus." Lukas jumped slightly, spinning to face none other than the short-haired girl that had been lingering by the female Captain's side. He relaxed slightly.

"Oh, thanks." He said, unsure of how exactly to respond. The girl was a good deal shorter than him, but looked older. Her hair was pure white, and cut to her jawline. Her skin was more olive than a normal Fynknian's was, leading him to wonder whether she had some Hrinnskel heritage. Her left ear dazzled with about six different piercings, and when she spoke again, he could see that she had another in her tongue.

"I think you're up against Belland next. Not the easiest win, but for you, I would say possible." He blinked.

"Got it." he murmured. The girl grinned, then stuck her hand out.

"I'm Ros Viktorsen, by the way. I came with you and your Rywanese boyfriend from Nyma."

"Oh okay." He said, brain taking a moment to register the second part of the sentence as he shook her head. "Wait, we're not-"

"Good luck!" she exclaimed, releasing him and darting away just as quickly as she had come. Lukas stared after her in bewilderment.

" has stopped working." He heard a sarcastic voice say behind him. He rolled his eyes at a grinning Matthias and moved past him. "Ok, lesson learned, that was a bad joke."

"Understatement." He muttered, warranting an indignant squawk from Matthias. Riya waltzed back on the fields a few minutes later, greeted by the sight of a stone-faced Lukas as he was lectured about modern humour and meme culture by Matthias.

* * *

When everyone was called to attention again about a half hour later, Lukas found out that he was indeed facing a young, dark-haired man named Jan Belland. Riya was fighting a woman named Silnes, and Matthias was fighting a man named Schau who was built like a brick wall.

Belland made for a much more challenging opponent than Sparre had. Their fight stretched out for more than fifteen minutes – long after most of the others had finished, before Lukas gained an opening and – quite cruelly – slammed his foot into Belland's knee side-on. He had never been a fan of watching joints bend in directions that they weren't meant to, and seeing Belland's knee cave inwards as it was brutally dislocated made his vision spin for a moment. Belland raised his hands in surrender, and was carried to the med tent to have his knee re-set. Luckily, the other man didn't seem too beat up about it, simply complimenting Lukas' form as he was carried away.

Riya and Matthias also won their respective matches, and, with something rather resembling complete bewilderment, stood and listened as their names were announced as part of the final eight. Hanne had gotten through too. Sergeant Kalis looked livid, and Lukas was highly amused by the reason; apparently, this was the first time in living memory that the final eight had been split fifty-fifty between members from Block A and Block D. Kalis, who had spent ages boasting about how talented his crop of fighters in Block A were, wasn't looking too good.

Lukas examined the remaining line-up. Other than him, Matthias, Riya and Hanne, Kors Justsen had also gotten through, as had two other talented Block A fighters named Sigurd Janvik and Miran Vekk. Rounding out the eight was a slender, dark-haired woman named Lillian Storlie. Her gaze sliced through him like a knife, and he shuddered slightly.

Kolden called for an hour-long break. The semi-finals were set to be held right before dinner, and the final was set for about an hour after. Before they wandered off to relax and recuperate a little, they got their next assignments. They were made to pull names from a hat. Lukas frowned when he pulled the name of the Block A woman, Storlie, out. Matthias grunted and showed Lukas his own selection. Miran Vekk.

Hanne blinked in surprise, informing the supervisor that she had pulled out Sigurd Janvik's name. Meaning…

"Oh, so that leaves us, then?" Justsen crowed, smiling down at Riya, who had gone rigid. She scowled up at him, thrusting her paper at the supervisor, seizing Matthias and Lukas by the arms and hauling them away.

"Uhh…" Matthias trailed off, sharing a confused look with Lukas, "You okay, Riya?" she stayed silent, before stopping abruptly and releasing them.

"Looks like this is as far as I go." She sighed, spinning around. "It's a shame, I would have liked to make the semi-finals."

"Don't count yourself out just yet!" Matthias exclaimed. "Come on, Riya, you're a crazy talented fighter." She shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. But Kors is the best that Block A has to offer. I'm afraid that he's got me." Matthias deflated. Lukas frowned too.

"You shouldn't give up yet, though." Lukas murmured. Riya sighed.

"I'm not giving up, but I am being reasonable." She shook her head. "Fuck. I really wanted to be in a squad, too."

"Who says they won't still put you in one?" Matthias interjected. "I know you said that they normally ignore Block D in favour of Block A, but we're equally matched this year. They're sure to take notice. Besides, top eight out of 64 is still insane." Riya was quiet for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"I guess you're right." She murmured, casting an absent look up at the sky. "Come on, let's find something to do for an hour."

'Something to do' ended up being a snowball fight.

Lukas gasped in shock as he felt snow slither down the back of his shirt. He whirled around, indignant, fully intending to chase Matthias and return the favour.

Unfortunately, something he had figured out was that, when moving through snow, tall people had the natural advantage of longer legs, and as a result, much more speed. Matthias was 6'2'', while Lukas was only 5'8''. Riya, at an even shorter 5'5'', was struggling too. While Lukas and Riya stumbled around clumsily, Matthias was fucking _jogging_ with ease through the snow, cackling madly as he did.

Lukas faceplanted into the snow trying to run after him and sat up, growling. He rolled a snowball in his hands, subtly icing over the outside without Riya noticing, then pelted it straight at Matthias's ridiculously long legs. The Rywanese man stumbled, and Lukas took advantage of the brief gap to shuffle up behind him in the snow, and shove a giant mound of it down the back of his shirt. Matthias shrieked – or, as he would later claim, 'deeply screamed with much manliness' – and jumped away in alarm, accidentally managing to tangle his leg with Lukas' arm and sending them both crashing to the ground.

Lukas took a moment to catch his breath, chest heaving as he sat up and tried to hurl more snow at Matthias, who still looked to be down for the count.

"Ahh, I surrender! I surrender!" Matthias exclaimed, gasping for breath. "Ahh, fuck, lemme catch my breath first." He placed a hand on his chest dramatically as Lukas rolled his eyes,

"You know," Riya called from her place across the snow mounds, wicked smile in place, "If you two wanted to get each other all hot and bothered, maybe get a room next time?" Lukas gaped at her while Matthias made a sound reminiscent of a cat getting it's tail stuck in a door. Without another word, Riya staggered to her feet and ran back in the direction of the fields, laughing. Lukas shook his head and wordlessly got to her feet.

"She's crazy, that one, I swear." Lukas muttered, shifting his attention to his now snow-crusted coat. Matthias mumbled his agreement as he got to his feet as well.

"Ugh. Next round should be starting soon." Matthias said. "Should we head back?"

"Probably," Lukas said. "Lest we allow Riya's imagination to run wild."

"What would she be imagining?"

"That we're getting each other hot and bothered, for one." Matthias coughed behind him.

"Ahh, yes, true."

The walk back to the tents was quiet, but not unpleasant. Riya was grinning like a maniac when they got back, and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively at them both. Lukas, in return, rolled his eyes so hard they almost rolled right out of their sockets, and Matthias just shook his head in amusement.

Kolden stepped up to the podium to announce the next set of fights quickly. Since there were only four fights this round, they were fighting individually, rather than multiple pairs at once. While many of the defeated trainees had decided to stay back at camp, all of the officials had returned, eyes sharp and observing their every move. Lukas swallowed. While it had been fun to get distracted with Matthias and Riya for a while, now he had to focus again.

First up was Hanne, fighting Sigurd Janvik of Block A. Janvik was tall, taller than Lukas, anyway, but stood about an inch shorter than Hanne. It didn't seem to bother him, though. He had dark grey hair that looked very thick and wavy. His eyes were a sharp, bright blue, and he had some freckles splattered across his nose.

Since this was the round of eight, they were permitted to use weapons. Hanne had decided on a vicious-looking mace, while Janvik had chosen a long, thin dagger. From the first cue, their fight was brutal. It stretched out longer than Lukas was expecting. From someone with as much brute strength as Hanne, it was strange to see her struggling against an opponent. Janvik looked to be a very balanced fighter. He was fast, but also very strong. He was agile, but could use brute force as well. Lukas started to figure out what would happen, but that made it no less cowing to watch Hanne surrender after a 40-minute struggle, and slink to the med tent with long gashes on her arms from Janvik's chosen weapon.

Lukas found himself up next, facing the harsh woman, Storlie.

He examined the weapons rack with unease, looking for any weapons that he was more than a little familiar with. Eventually, he picked up a butterfly knife. Nelia had trained him in how to use them countless times, and they made for subtle, unpredictable weapons. Storlie picked up a spear. Wonderful.

Storlie was fast, and the fact that she had picked a long-range weapon made it rather hard for him to get close enough to get any hits in. Eventually, he decided to just say fuck it, and do whatever he could to get close enough to land a hit. This strategy resulted in him dodging moves that made the tense audience gasp. Storlie cut open his sleeve and also very nearly managed to gore his leg. Taking a risk as she readied her spear to likely impale him, he grabbed the sharp end with his left hand and pushed back, surprisingly Storlie and making the blunt end of the spear strike her hard in the stomach.

She gasped, seizing her spear once more and circling him. He looked into her eyes, and felt a chill run down his spine. She had no sense of remorse there at all. He let his abilities snake from their confines, and stepped back in horror as he felt her intentions. She had no reservations about killing him. Her drive was remarkable, but her lack of empathy…

Lukas gritted his teeth. His left hand was bleeding from the thin, deep cuts he'd acquired after grabbing the spearhead.

If she was perfectly willing to play dirty, then he was too, he supposed. When she next moved to strike with her spear, he sliced his knives across, smirking in satisfaction as they severed the spear-tip from the rest of the weapon. Using Storlie's momentary shock as an opening, he seized the spear again, yanking it harshly from her hands before tossing it to the side, out of bounds and, by extension, out of reach, and lunged at her.

For all her viciousness, Storlie was still shorter and thinner than he was. She surrendered after a long, tense minute of him pressing one of his knives to her throat. And with that, Lukas was into the semi-finals.

Up next was Riya and Kors Justsen, and as much as Lukas wanted to believe that his friend would pull through, he knew from the start that she was right. Justsen was stronger than she was. The one part of the fight that really made him grit his teeth in anger was when Justsen slammed his elbow into Riya's jaw, quite obviously fracturing or breaking it. With a strong kick aimed at her ribs, he knocked her out of bounds, and also moved into the semi-finals. Riya gave him a weak smile as she limped to the med tent with the help of Sigurd Janvik. She didn't seem visibly upset, but there was still a slump to her shoulders that hadn't been there before.

Matthias' fight against Miran Vekk was next. Lukas spent an entire 40 minutes frowning, wide-eyed at the two locked in a vicious dance, swinging weapons with purpose. It was a tight win, but after a gruelling ordeal, Matthias secured the victory. Lukas sighed in relief. So, they were both into the semi-finals. He sincerely hoped they didn't have to fight each other.

Kalis looked incredibly displeased as he announced Lukas, Matthias, Kors and Sigurd as the final four. Kolden looked delighted. The Block A-Block D split was still fifty-fifty, Lukas realised. No wonder Kolden looked ready to start gloating.

They were given another hour-long break to recover before the semi-finals. Lukas sighed. His body was starting to feel the effects of four separate fights in one day. And he had to do at least one more.

Groaning, he slid onto his side, sighing in relief at the cool feel of snow against his cheek.

* * *

He must have dozed off, because when he next came to, Matthias was gently shaking him.

"Come on, man, time to fight again." Matthias looked as tired as Lukas felt, and he dragged himself to his feet, groaning in protest. He stretched quickly, hoping that he'd have a somewhat easier match.

"Who are we fighting?" he asked, words mixing together slightly. Matthias made a face.

"You've got that Sigurd guy. I've got Kors." Lukas felt the last vestiges of sleep abandon him.

"Really? Shit." He wasn't sure who he felt sorrier for. Matthias nodded in agreement.

"Yeah. You're up first." Lukas nodded.

He was pointed in the direction of the weapons rack again, and he blinked in surprise when he saw one weapon, somewhat obscured from view by the others. He picked it up. It was a metal staff, the kind weighted for breaking bones. The exact kind that he had spent months using with Nelia. The kind that she had taught him to use like an extension of his own body. The kind that he knew how to use with complex Jhobrasian fighting styles, which were so unpredictable, effective and unusual that most special operatives chose to learn them. He felt confidence flow through him as he wrapped his hand decisively around the staff and approach the field again.

In the hour he had been sleeping, the audience had grown. But it wasn't full of people from Blocks A and D. Most of them looked relatively young, but he recognised the white, fur-lined coats that they were all wearing. They were all from the guerrilla squads. He spotted the strange girl from earlier, Ros Viktorsen. She grinned and gave him a small wave. She was wearing one of the coats too, which she most certainly had not been doing earlier.

His opponent, Sigurd, seemed to have noticed the new audience members as well, and looked a little nervous. He had opted out of the knives this time, Lukas noticed. Instead, he had chosen a metal baseball bat. Lukas winced at the thought of being hit by that thing. At least, using a long-range weapon, he wouldn't have to get too close to Janvik to actually hit him.

The starting cue rang out, and the dance began.

For what felt like an hour, he and Janvik moved back and forth, lunging and dodging. Lukas struck him and just missed getting a bone broken by Janvik's heavy club. Lukas kept light on his feet, recalling every little tip, move and trick that Nelia had taught him. He knew that his unconventional fighting style had caught the attention of a lot of the people watching. He could hear low murmuring among the squad members as he ducked and danced around Sigurd's attacks. Eventually, he got sick of the darting and flitting, and lashed out. He heard a shocked gasp from the crowd as his staff, until then used more as a tool of defence than attack, whirled around and slammed into Sigurd's face, marking Lukas' third broken nose of the day. Another quick strike made Sigurd's leg collapse beneath him, and a few quick movements later, he had Sigurd pinned under him as they both panted in exhaustion, and Kalis announced him the winner.

Lukas staggered off of Sigurd, but offered his fallen opponent a hand up. The other didn't hesitate to take it, and, swaying and exhausted, they helped each other into the med tent. Lukas passed out the moment he had a pillow under his head.

He woke to the sound of loud cheering and voices. Sigurd was standing by the door, holding the tent flap open and peering out with a sympathetic look on his face. Lukas blinked.

"Wha-what happened?" he yawned. Sigurd made a face, looking over at him.

"I mean…it's technically good news?" he said hesitantly. Before Lukas could ask what he was talking about, Matthias stumbled through the door, a long gash on his head leaking blood down his face. His mouth turned down at the corners.

"Sorry Lukas," he groaned as one of the nurses rushed over to attend to him, "he's a tough one." His stomach sank. So, he was to fight Kors Justsen? Great.

* * *

"Come on, Lukas, you need to eat _something_." Riya murmured, her voice muffled and thick from the drugs that had been injected into her fractured jaw. She was frowning at him in concern. He sighed. He was already exhausted beyond belief, and he somehow had to find the strength and will to fight the strongest person in their entire training regiment. How was he meant to eat with that hanging over his head? He forced down some meat and rice to alleviate the concerned stare that Riya was pressing into him, and wandered outside, into the cold.

He found himself standing behind the dining hall, drinking in the vast array of stars visible in the dark sky above him. He wanted nothing more than to crumple to the ground and sleep for three days straight, but he knew that he couldn't just do that.

"Hey…um…Christensen?" he started in surprise, spinning around to see Sigurd Janvik standing a few metres away, scuffing his foot in the snow awkwardly. "Uhh…sorry to bother you." Lukas blinked.

"It's fine." He said simply. "Did you need something?" Janvik hesitated, before approaching him.

"I just…I saw you looked quite nervous in there." Lukas shrugged. Janvik paused. "I'm not gonna go and say you have no reason to be worried, I mean, you are fighting Kors. But," he said when Lukas gave him a questioning look, "I know that, like most of the other people who got as far as we did, you probably wanna get into a guerrilla squad, yeah?" he sighed and nodded. Janvik nodded along too for a moment before catching himself. "Well, you don't need to win to be considered for a squad. With those things, it's kinda first in first served, ya know? I mean if you stood out to someone in the round of 16 and they asked to reserve your name, then you're set. Given how well you've fought today, I think you'll be just fine."

Lukas hummed. "I suppose so." Janvik hesitated.

"Also, while you're fighting Kors, would you mind trying to punch him in the throat?" Lukas looked up at the other man, bewildered, as Janvik stuttered and immediately moved to explain himself. "It's just! Uhh, we did basic combat drills in our first week. He punched me in the throat. I couldn't swallow solids for three days. I would just like to see him get some retribution, is all." Lukas blinked in surprise, but slowly nodded.

"I'll try my best," he said, amused, "I'll also be aiming to fracture his jaw, though, since he did that to Riya, but I'll put it on the list." Janvik grinned.

"Ha, thanks. And, good luck." Lukas nodded in acknowledgement and watched the other man walk off. He raised an eyebrow. An unusual conversation, to be sure. He didn't exactly know how to feel about it. Shrugging it off, he climbed to his feet as the summoning cue for the finals rang out. He swallowed his anxiety and started walking back to the fields.

Some more people from Blocks A and D had shown up for this fight, and he could feel the weight of their stares just as surely as the stares of the squad members. Kors looked effortlessly confident as he strode out into the field, a large baseball bat with nails driven through it clutched in his hand. Lukas swallowed and picked up the staff he had used against Janvik.

He saw Riya (still nursing her jaw mournfully) and Matthias shuffle onto the sidelines to watch, and tried to stay calm. He could feel his abilities – the _lahjof_ – lingering inside him. No matter what happened, he would not use them. He gently seized them, and pushed them down, locking them deep inside himself, refusing to let a burly man from Block A expose his identity.

They both stepped into the square, and the atmosphere shifted, the tension reaching a boiling point. Sergeant Kalis stepped up to the podium. Silence reigned for a long moment, before the sergeant leant forward and spoke into the microphone.

"Begin."

Kors moved like lightning. One moment he was standing two metres from Lukas, spiked bat hanging at his side, and the next he was hardly a rulers length away, swinging his bat towards Lukas' face. It was sheer, blind instinct that helped him dodge it and stagger to the other end of the square. His body was aching all over – the two naps he had had earlier weren't enough. His body just couldn't do this.

That didn't mean that he wasn't going to try, though.

He ducked and dodged, struck and kicked at Kors with every last morsel of energy that his body could provide. He got in a solid punch to the man's throat and bit back a weary smile when he heard Janvik's enthusiastic cheer from the crowd. A well-placed strike with his staff made a loud cracking noise emit from Kors' jaw too. Riya wasn't really able to cheer right now, but he hoped that she was satisfied.

But for every good hit that he got on Kors, Kors got two more on him. A swing of the spiked bat that he couldn't quite dodge resulted in a bloody gash on his forehead to match Matthias'. A solid fist snapped his nose like he had snapped three others previously in the day. He spat blood from his mouth, trying not to inhale too much as he staggered to his feet, vision spinning. He had bruises all over, and he'd probably find it hard to climb up to his bunk after this, but he kept going.

Lukas was good. He was the best of Block D, something that even Matthias would reluctantly admit at this point. He was one of the best recruits that Blå Ren had ever seen. But he wasn't better than Kors. After a brutal hour of putting his body through hell for the sixth time that day, he groaned and held his hands up in surrender. Kors pulled his weapon away from Lukas' face the minute that a smug Kalis declared him the winner, and extended a hand to help him out. Lukas was a petty person, but he was also sensible. He accepted it. Kors looked rather rough himself.

"Damn, you gave me a good-ass fight." Kors said, tone sincere. Lukas was satisfied to hear the raspiness in his voice from his earlier punch. "Sorry about the nose." Lukas waved it off.

"S'fine. Just karma from earlier." He murmured. From Kors' arms, he found himself transferred to Riya and Matthias, and then to the nurses in the med tent.

Lukas spun his head around, seeking out Matthias. "Can I sleep now?" he mumbled through the blood still slowly sliding from his nose and down his face. Matthias chuckled.

"Yeah, Lukas. Go to sleep."

And, for the fourth time that day, he was dead to the world.


	25. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Hello, I am back.**

 **Fun side-note, this chapter and the first half of Chapter 26 were originally one, but it was getting up to well over 10,000 words and I didn't want to inflict two absolutely huge chapters on you guys one after the other, so I split it in half instead.**

 **Also, since I've had a lot of good ideas cropping up in my brain recently, it's looking increasingly likely that this series will end up being a trilogy!**

 **CHARACTER MENTIONSSSSSS!**  
 **As I said last time, I recorded how many mentions each character got in HTS on my laptop, and the top ten (surprisingly) were as follows;**

 **1\. Yao: 773**  
 **2\. Matthew: 440**  
 **3\. Lukas: 352**  
 **4\. Lovino: 342**  
 **5\. Francis: 309**  
 **6\. Matthias: 300**  
 **7\. Arthur: 284**  
 **8\. Alfred: 265**  
 **9\. Octavia: 236**  
 **10\. Kari: 221**

 **Surprising, I know! Yao, Matthew, Lukas and Lovino weren't too surprising, but I was very shocked to see how often I mentioned characters like Francis, Octavia and Kari.**

 **I don't know if it's because chapters are so much longer for CTM than HTS, but the character mention counts that I have already are wild. The number one mentioned character in CTM already has 829 mentions...how, I don't know. Try and guess who it is (it's not surprising, lol)**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Gilbert and Matthew spent time in the med tent and Gilbert learnt more about first aid. They spoke to Yao, who was acting bizarrely. He gave both of them leave to go on the mission to the Red Pike, along with Arthur, Alfred, Vash and Elizabeta.**  
 **\- Lukas, Matthias and Riya all competed against their peers to prove their talent to officials and get into a guerrilla squad. Riya was knocked out in the quarter-finals, Matthias in the semi-finals, while Lukas made it to the finals but lost to Kors Justsen.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Some mentions of and references to violence, death and injuries.**  
 **\- References to dubcon and ephebophilia (Poor Feli)**  
 **\- Nothing super bad, though! (for once rip)**

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
17th Juillat_

When Lukas stirred next, the first thought that filled his head was _wait, this isn't where I fell asleep_. He blinked slowly, examing the terrain around himself. He was back inside the barracks of Block D, but this was a perspective he wasn't used to seeing them from. He rubbed at his eyes and snuggled deeper into the warm, nice-smelling blankets tucked around him as he considered this phenomenon. He distinctly remembered passing out in the med tent after fighting Kors. How had he gotten back to the Block D barracks?

"Oh! You're awake!" a cheerful voice called. Lukas looked over in confusion, relaxing when he spotted Ansel standing by the door, smiling softly. "Damn, you were really out of it, weren't you?" Lukas huffed out a small laugh and nodded, letting his head slump back onto the pillows. How that he was properly awake, he could feel the sharp aches spreading across his entire body. His many fights yesterday were taking a toll on him. He forced his body into a sitting position with difficulty, hurriedly wrapping the blankets around himself again as they slid off. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in one of the mirrors on the wall and winced.

There were bruises scattered over his neck and face. His nose looked especially rough, and one of his eyes, where he had been punched at one point, was badly bloodshot. He frowned a little. The gash on his head had been stitched up, but there was still dirt and blood crusted in his hair, and a little under his nose too. Ansel cocked his head a little.

"Yeah, they would've given you a proper bath last night, but you were all passed out, so, yeah." Lukas sighed.

"Right, yeah. How did they get me here, then?" he examined the bunk again. "And this is not my bed." Ansel grinned.

"Oh, yeah. Matthias and that Sigurd Janvik guy carried you back here. They were both too tired to lug you all the way up to the top bunk, so they just dumped you on Matthias' bed and he took yours for the night." Lukas hummed slightly, wrapping his borrowed blankets closer around himself.

"Got it. Where's everyone else? Did I miss breakfast?" Ansel grinned suddenly, picked up his phone off the floor and spun it to show Lukas the time. 3:52pm. He blinked. So, he had missed breakfast, and lunch too, by quite a lot. He groaned, leaning back as Ansel chuckled.

"Yeah, everyone else is sort of just milling around or mingling." He said. "Some people have set up card games in the dining room, if you wanted to join in on those." Lukas rubbed his eyes,

"I think I'll shower first." He murmured. Ansel nodded.

"Ah yeah, sounds like a good decision." He straightened up, smiling. "I'll leave you to it. And be careful of those stitches, by the way." Lukas blinked, but nodded obediently as he forced himself to his feet. He groaned immediately as he felt pain flare up all over his arms, legs and torso. Ansel reached up to grab his clothes for him, then waved genially and scampered out the door. Lukas rubbed at a sore spot on his side and walked into the communal bathrooms, feet padding quietly over the tiled floor.

He picked a randow shower cubicle and dived in, stripping off the dirty clothes he had worn yesterday. He winced when he saw how much dirt, sweat and blood there was still on him. He should probably wash Matthias' sheets, actually.

His whole body relaxed when he stepped under the scalding water. Lukas hadn't been given any time so far to think about how he had gone yesterday, but, isolated under the shower, he let his thoughts stray. He had wanted to win against Kors, yes, but he found himself far less disappointed than he would have expected. Kors was just a generally better fighter than he was, and as arrogant as the other man could be, he had deserved that victory.

His thoughts drifted to the guerrilla squads. Even if they did have a bias towards Block A, someone would have to take notice of him. He had come second after all, that was no small feat. He sighed, wishing that he had stayed conscious last night. If he had, he would have been able to see whether anyone was interested in taking him, and subsequently 'convince' them that they should request Matthias, too. After all, Matthias' friends' freedom depended on whether the bounty hunter could keep him safe, and he doubted the guy would be able to do that if they were on opposite sides of the planet.

He could only hope now that someone yesterday had noticed them hanging out around each other. He could try and convince someone retroactively, but he didn't know how effective that would be. Sighing, deeply, he pressed his hands to his face for a moment before removing them and setting to carefully washing his stitched-up cut and scrubbing his filthy hair.

He loathed the sharp sting of cold on his skin as he stepped out from under the warm spray and shut the shower off, and Lukas hurried to towel himself dry and pull on some warmer clothes. Since they no longer had any training to do, they were allowed to wear what they wanted. He pulled on the Venkater boots Yao had gotten him, along with warm black pants and a thick woollen jumper.

He tugged the edges of his sleeves down over his hands as he stepped out of the barracks, blinking in the cold. He could see lights on in the dining hall, and shrugged to himself. He might as well find somewhere warm to hang around.

Pushing the door of the dining hall open, he blinked in surprise at the sudden rush of heat that smothered him as he shut it behind him. All of the lights had bee shut off save for a few at the ends of the hall. The tables had been rearranged, with most shoved and stacked against the walls. There were people lounging comfortably around everywhere, some playing cards like Ansel had mentioned, others had whipped out board-games (though where they had gotten those from, he wasn't sure). Others had just congregated into small groups and were chatting happily.

Lukas scanned the area, relaxing when he spotted Riya and woved through the crowds over to her. Spotting him, she smiled and beckoned him over. He slid into place next to her. She offered him a plate of biscuits which was sitting on the floor in the middle, and he took one with murmured thanks.

"How's your jaw?" he asked after finishing the biscuit, and taking another at Riya's silent urging. She shrugged.

"Still throbbing like mad." She said, voice thick. "But not as bad. They have that binding agent stuff that makes bone fractures heal faster, so they gave me some of that." He nodded absently, rubbing his sore nose. Riya smiled slightly. "I know it's crazy to say, but yesterday was actually kinda fun." Lukas smirked slightly, then nodded.

"Yeah, it actually was. When I wasn't getting punched in the face, that is." Riya gave him a blank look.

"What are you talking about? That was the best part." He elbowed her, rolling his eyes when she chuckled. It was almost unbelievable how much Riya had changed over the last few weeks. From cold and distant to warm and humorous. It was a massive change, but he was glad to see that her past demons weren't haunting her as much.

He relaxed into the side of a lounge chair that had been dragged in from somewhere, watching a few rounds of the card game Riya was playing unfold before he was persuaded to join in. He had never played it before, and only had a very basic understanding of the rules, but won sheerly due to how 'ridiculously good his poker face was'.

A loud voice from across the hall drew his attention, and he waved a hand in greeting when Matthias, wrapped in an endearingly hideous wool sweater, noticed him and bounded over to join in their game.

"That sweater is the ugliest thing I've ever seen." Lukas deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at the bounty hunter. Matthias didn't look discouraged in the slightest, simply exclaiming, "I know, right?" in a delighted tone before shuffling into a space across the circle and happily accepting the stack of cards another player handed him. Matthias was very good at cards, as it turned out. He won four rounds in a row before it was unanimously decided that he be shunned from the game. Matthias grinned good-naturedly, and decided to seat himself directly behind Lukas and Riya and make commentary on the hands played in a stage-whisper, which was equal parts frustrating and amusing.

Lukas was frowning down at his current hand, trying to decide which card to deal, when silence fell over the room. Looking up in confusion, he exchanged a bewildered look with both Matthias and Riya before peering over the lounge he was seated next to. Sergeant Kolden was standing by the door, still wearing his pressed uniform. He raked his gaze over everyone to make sure that everyone was listening. It was then that Lukas noticed who, rather than Kolden, had caused the silence.

Two tall women were standing next to Kolden. One of them had half her head shaved, the bald half covered in twisting vine tattoos. The other was the female Captain that Lukas had spotted yesterday. She had been very bundled up before, so he hadn't gotten a good look at her, but now he could see her properly.

She was, as he had already noted, rather tall. Definitely taller than him, anyway. Her hair was a very dark shade of grey, and was also rather long. Though it was out, likely to protect her neck from the cold, the front parts of her hair had been pulled back, so as to prevent it getting in her face. Some locks of it had been braided. Her features were strong and proud. Her eyes were a dark shade of blue-grey, and housed under a pair of sharp eyebrows that looked ready to be raised in the case of unbelievable stupidity.

She was wearing one of the white, fur-lined coats that characterised guerrilla squad members, black pants, knee-high lace up boots, and black gloves. There was a set of belts looped around her waist, off which various weapons hung. Her expression was severe, but not necessarily humourless.

The other woman, the one with the shaved head, was wearing the same sort of garb, but rather than weapons on her belt, she had a machine gun slung over her shoulder, which was a little jarring to see after the afternoon spent playing card games next to a fire.

Kolden stepped forwards, sweeping his gaze across the room. "I need Kristoff, Storlie, Justsen, Christensen, Køhler and Janvik to come with me, now." Lukas blinked in shock, and noted Matthias and Riya doing the same. He got to his feet slowly, his look of confusion by the other five who had been called out. He hesitated to approach the imposing trio, and Matthias, noting his reluctance, drew ahead so that Lukas could just trail after him. Kolden hummed in satisfaction when all six of them were lined up in front of them.

"Alright. Christensen, Køhler, Janvik, follow Captain Thomassen," he jerked his head at the female Captain with long hair, "Kristoff, Storlie and Justsen, follow Captain Dal." He indicated the other woman.

Matthias, Lukas and Janvik exchanged a brief look before following Captain Thomassen. They shivered as she led them out of the dining hall, across the icy ground of the commons and into a small, log building, she held the door open for all three of them and waited until Janvik had scurried inside to close it roughly.

"Alright then." She said, voice cool and authoritative as she turned around to face them all. "For those of you who weren't listening, I am Captain Malin Thomassen, leader of Guerrilla Squad E." Lukas felt his heart speed up abruptly. Sigurd, standing next to him, inhaled sharply. Malin eyed them both briefly. "I won't dance around the issue. Yes, that means what you think it means." She paused. "You all performed exceptionally well yesterday, but the three of you, among others, stuck out to me before the round of 16 had even happened." She made eye contact with each of them in turn.

"Choosing fighters for the guerrilla squads is a case of first in, first served. Most people try to do a juggling act between locating good fighters as quickly as possible while also not jumping to conclusions concerning someone's physical capabilities. I am happy to say that years in the field have helped me recognise a good fighter by their conduct rather than by their frame. I wrote some of your names down as the second round was starting." Lukas blinked. She had only waited one fight to write names down? It seemed presumptuous of her, but considering that all three of them had been in the semi-finals, she obviously had a talent for observation. "Considering your final rankings, I think I choose correctly." She said.

Silence reigned for a moment as the Captain stopped and scrutinised them all again. "Listen closely. You do have a choice here. Many people believe they want to be part of a guerrilla squad, but duck out after just a few weeks of service. We have by far the hardest job in the entire rebel army. We have to travel vast distances, over extremely hostile terrain. We live in constant discomfort. We have the highest mortality rate of any fraction of this army. The average shelf life of a guerrilla fighter is only six months. Any longer is considered prodigal. We get shot, stabbed, ambushed and attacked so frequently you may never have a good night's sleep again. You must follow orders to the T, lest any disobedience result in everyone's deaths." She hesitated a moment. "The only reason there are so many available spots for new guerrilla fighters is because so many of us have been wiped out in the last few months. If any one of you wants to go to normal service, knowing this, I will not judge them in the slightest. That being said, if any of you wishes to not be part of my squad, you may return to your peers now."

Silence enveloped them once more. None of them moved. A full minute passed before the Captain nodded her head. "I see. Well, thank you for your commitment." She reached into her pockets and retrieved something which, on further inspection, Lukas saw were dog-tags. "Every soldier gets tags, of course, but these are specially made to withstand prolonged exposure to the elements, in addition to damage and rust. As the faction with the highest mortality rate, these tags are more important for us than for others." She tossed each of them their tags. Lukas examined his. They were stamped with his alias, of course, but it was still interesting to see. He slid them over his neck, heart fluttering with anticipation. The Captain hummed in approval when all three of them had put them on.

"Now, don't take those off. As of now you are a guerrilla squad member, and you need to be identifiable as such. Now", she folded her hands behind her back, "a few important things for you to know." Her stance relaxed a little, and a small smile crossed her face. She was glad they had all accepted, he realised. "First and foremost, I don't care too much for titles. If you want to call me Captain, go for it, but I will accept Malin just as readily. The guerrilla faction is one more concerned with performance than formality, so don't expect people to use any ranks for you, either." They all nodded at that.

"Second, I do not tolerate infighting. If you find yourselves not getting along with another squad member, either solve the issue or put distance between yourselves. No-one has time for petty quarrels. Third, in the squads, we use the buddy system. It's a simple and effective way of keeping track of everyone, and ensuring that if you do get lost, you aren't completely isolated. There are typically nine people in a squad, one of those being the captain. The other eight are expected to partner up. I tend to go solo. Four members of the existing five in my squad are partnered up already, so one of you will partner up with the other. You'll meet the others in a few days, and in the meantime we'll also fix up gear for you." Lukas watched her keenly, committing the information to memory.

"Now, in terms of gear. You will all get a coat like this one," she indicated the white, fur-lined parka coat she was wearing, "and I would recommend having a ready supply of black pants. This combination helps us blend into the background a great deal. Shoes are up to you, as are any underclothes. You will all be issued a standard rifle, but you can also ask for specific guns if you are highly proficient in their use. You'll be given basic tools like multi-tool knives, compasses etc. If you want a non-automatic weapon, go the armoury and ask for one. You'll all only have one bag to carry things in, so I hope you are all prepared to wear dirty clothes more than once." Lukas nodded. He and Emilia used to wander around covered in grime for days when they lived on the streets. Re-wearing clothes was no issue for him.

"In terms of sleeping arrangements, we use two-person tents. You don't have to share with your buddy, but it's recommended. The tents aren't big, mind you, only a little larger than a twin bed inside. I know it'll be cramped, but you get used to it quickly, and sharing body heat is a big thing for guerrilla members, so you'd better get over it fast. We only get a limited amount of sleeping time, so I would recommend not engaging in other activities at night, but if you so choose to do so, just kindly keep the noise down." Lukas raised an eyebrow at that, while Matthias laughed and even Sigurd cracked a grin.

"That's about everything that you need to know straight up. You'll learn as we go along, and if you have questions at any point, don't bother getting embarrassed. Just ask for help from one of the others or myself. If none of you has any questions, then I think we're about finished here." None of them spoke, and she nodded in satisfaction. "Good, now, you'll be given permission forms to collect weapons and equipment in the next few days, but do remember to relax a little too. You won't get the chance once we're on the road." She swept her eyes over them again, then bowed her head a little. "Thank you for choosing to join Squad E."

"Thank you for picking us." Sigurd said sincerely, mimicking the gesture. Captain Malin smiled slightly.

"You are welcome. Now go on, enjoy your free time."

The three of them left the small room, Sigurd jogging off to see someone while Lukas and Mtathias trudged back to the dining hall. Matthias elbowed him.

"See? Told you we'd be fine." Lukas sighed in relief.

"Yeah. What a fluke that she picked us both, though." Matthias shrugged.

"I saw her eyeing us while we were watching the other matches together. She probably saw that we're friends." Lukas raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? So, we're friends now?" Matthias shrugged.

"Well, I think we are, anyway." The blond murmured. Lukas considered it a moment.

"Yeah, I guess we are." Lukas muttered, rolling his eyes when Matthias grinned at that. "Now come on, I have a game of Blackjack to win."

* * *

"It is a bit of a shame that we aren't all in the same squad, I will admit." Riya lamented that night as they all sat on the floor around their bunks, watching the friendly mouse that had scampered up from the floorboards wander around curiously. "We would have made a hell of a team, I think." Lukas nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I do wish Captain Thomassen had grabbed us all," he sighed, "Sigurd's alright though. Hopefully the rest of our squads end up being reasonable people." Riya cracked a smile nodding in agreement.

"Yeah. I mean, Kors isn't that bad. A bit obnoxious but not terrible. The girl Storlie is alright, too. Even though she acted like she was trying to kill you in the one-on-ones." Lukas grumbled at that.

"In all honesty, I'm not sure that was an act. She seemed very intense." He said. Riya shrugged.

"Ah well, she's my problem now, not yours. Our new Captain seems alright too."

"Who did you have again?" Matthias inquired.

"Hedda Dal. Our squad is B, too. You guys are E, right?" they nodded. "All of the squads have different reputations. They fluctuate a lot because of how rapidly members die or get replaced, but pretty much everyone still left in B and E are apparently old souls."

"Which is a good thing." Matthias interjected. "It means that they know what they're doing." Riya nodded.

"Mmhmm. I'm meeting my team members tomorrow. Hopefully there's someone there who can offset Kors." Matthias laughed at that.

"Good luck. The guy's a bit over the top but he's alright once you get used to him."

"Are you describing Kors or yourself?" Riya teased. Matthias slapped her arm jokingly, grinning.

"Oi, rude." He said. "I did not sign up for this verbal abuse." Riya rolled her eyes while Lukas suppressed a smile.

"Ah, well. I mean, at least you two get to be in the same squad." Riya elbowed Lukas. "Don't go having too much with your new friends." Lukas rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure that getting shot at by the Union will keep us from enjoying ourselves too much." He said dryly. Riya laughed at that.

"Yeah, probably." She mused. Lukas yawned. Despite his huge sleep-in, he still felt tired. Matthias noticed and grinned.

"You should probably get to bed. I mean, you're probably still pretty out of it from yesterday." Lukas sighed, but he couldn't exactly argue with that assessment when he could still feel the aching in his joints.

"Yeah, I suppose so." He muttered, reluctantly getting up off the floor. They had all been sure to get dressed into pyjamas earlier, so that they could tumble straight into bed whenever they wanted. He suppressed another yawn, pressing a hand to his mouth. Matthias made a teasing noise, ruffling Lukas' hair. He stepped away in annoyance, glaring at the taller man.

"Ugh, don't touch my hair." Matthias held his hands up in mock surrender, still grinning unapologetically.

"So sorry, princess." He said, winking arrogantly. "Now, do try to not get any frostbite in your sleep." Lukas knew what he was alluding to when he said that. _Come to me before running outside like a maniac_. He scowled, but nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll try my best." He muttered. Matthias seemed to relax a little, smiling genuinely as he slid onto his own bunk. Lukas rolled his eyes again as he tugged his blankets over his legs.

He was in a guerrilla squad like he had wanted. For better or for worse.

* * *

 _The Ruma Non "Red Pike" Anchorage,  
Deadlocked 350,000 kilometres from Cyrassa,  
19th Juillat_

Feliciano adjusted the black woollen beanie over his hair as he eyed the bustling lines of people mingling around the anchorage. He dusted off the clothes he had yanked out of the deeper vestiges of his pack. He had gotten some nice clothes from the Citadel, yes, but the objective here was not to stand out any more than necessary. He gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror hanging on the wall, satisfied that none of his hair was visible. His own clothes had been so filthy from his days running around Bibesti and his brief fight with Inkar in the sewers that they had been decisively thrown out by the Zephyrak, Zubaira. He had pulled on some of Lovino's clothes instead, and it only made the aching in his chest keener.

He jumped slightly as the door behind him opened. Inkar stuck her head through. "Hey," she murmured. "You wanna go now?" he nodded slowly, fiddling with the edges of his sleeves.

"Yeah, just give me a minute." He murmured.

For all her faults, Cahya Maharani was a rather honest pirate. She had taken them to the Red Pike, and just a few minutes of buzzing talk on the metal walkways of the anchorage had told him that Barkhado Dirie was, in fact, expected here on the 20th. Maharani had even deigned to pay for a small, shabby set of rooms for he and Inkar to stay in until the 22nd. And, after pressing a kiss to his cheek that made his skin crawl, she had left. They'd only been here a single day, but Feliciano had been too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, to bother going out yesterday. His body was in bad need of food.

Sighing, he clambered to his feet and swung the door open, blinking in surprise when he spotted his companion. He hadn't registered Inkar's appearance before, but she had changed it vastly. Rather than tightly braided, her hair hung out, with the foremost locks braided back to keep them out of her face. She was wearing a simple, long-sleeved grey shirt with black leggings and amber dancing slippers. She had a satchel looped around her shoulder and a knife strapped very visibly to her thigh. It was a stark change from the black uniform she normally donned.

Inkar smiled slightly at his surprise. "I do wear casual clothes, too, you know." He eyed the knife at her thigh.

"Casual, right." He muttered, forcing a small smile to his face. "So, food?" she nodded and opened the front door to their temporary apartment, checking that she had the key on her before they both darted outside.

Anchorages were things that Feliciano had rarely seen before, so being on one was a new and bizarre experience for him. As Inkar had explained, "It's just a docking point for ships so they can refuel and resupply, you know. But they have artificial gravitational fields and oxygen." It was strange walking along the metal walkways that made up the 'ground' of the anchorage. The artificial gravitational field meant that Feliciano's feet stayed solidly on the walkway, but if he were to step off, he would fall straight through and into open space. The forcefield around the anchorage was specifically designed to contain the gravity and the oxygen, not necessarily to cushion someone's fall.

As Inkar had explained, you could tell how prestigious an anchorage was by how many safety mechanisms they had in place to prevent an unfortunate accident from occurring. The Red Pike had absolutely none, not even railings along the walkways so, while they were rather wide, he sincerely worried for any drunks coming along this way.

Usually, anchorages abided by the laws of the planets that they orbited, but the Red Pike didn't orbit any planet. It was deadlocked in space permanently, and as a result, had no real laws to abide by. It might have been located closest to Cyrassa, but since it wasn't within its orbit, the planet had no jurisdiction over the anchorage. No-one could recall where the anchorage had been built, either, or who authorised its construction, so it was a proverbial no-man's land. It belonged to no-one, so everyone operated however the hell they wanted to.

Unfortunately, as Inkar had explained, this also was what made the anchorage so lawless. It wasn't so much a question of what was legal as it was a question of what was not illegal. Without specific restrictions, it could be claimed that everything was legal. Universally recognised crimes like murder and rape would be frowned upon, but, if committed on the anchorage, the perpetrator couldn't be convicted since there was no ruling body. Other things, that were more morally grey on some planets, like enslavement, robbery, gambling and piracy, tended to go unchecked completely.

And that was why it was the perfect location for the Universe's most lawless citizens to meet. The anchorage itself was called Ruma Non – "No Name" in Cyrassian, since the records of the anchorage's original title were lost to the ages, but it was widely known as the Red Pike for the infamous bar on its premises. It had been a meeting place for murderers, thieves, pirates, rebels and other undesirables for centuries now, and inter-planetary authorities knew better than to try and undermine the establishment.

For someone as well-known and consistently black-listed as Barkhado Dirie, it would have been a haven, where she couldn't be arrested on any charge, no matter how severe. In the case of a meeting gone sour, reportedly the owner's only request was that patrons dispose of bodies themselves. It was chilling, in a way, but also vaguely fascinating.

Feliciano trailed after Inkar as she wove through the mingling people, scanning the storefronts on search of something decent to eat. Since no laws applied here, he could technically have walked free without hiding his hair. The Union's oppressive laws on Free Court people wasn't in force here, so he really could have done what he wanted, but it was still legal to kidnap people and enslave them. Syhvvanians had a high selling rate in the black market, and he'd rather avoid getting captured like Lovino had. It would put a considerable dent in his plans.

Inkar eventually chose a fairly clean-looking establishment and ushered him inside. It was a little dim, and the air was thick with incense and what might have been opium, but it was one of the most decent looking places along the wide metal boulevard they had been examining.

After skimming through the options absently for a few minutes, Feliciano chose whatever looked like it was least likely to make him sick, and watched Inkar as she marched to the front and ordered. He could feel eyes on him, but he didn't acknowledge them, simultaneously resisting the urge to check that his beanie was in place. They'd lose interest in him if he didn't give them a reason to be interested, after all.

Inkar collapsed into the chair across from him, wrinkling her nose and flicking some old crumbs off the table. She looked up at him, expression softening greatly. "You doing okay?" he nodded.

"I'm fine." He muttered. "Why wouldn't I be?" Inkar gave him a look, and he felt his stomach turn. He had been off-kilter since they'd made their deal with Maharani. He'd been having trouble sleeping, his weary thoughts inevitably straying back to the time he'd spent with her. He wished he could scrub his mind free of the memories. He didn't want to think about it; about the ghost of her breath on her neck, or the bitter taste of alcohol on her mouth, or the phantom touch of her fingers on his body.

He curled his hands into fists, letting his nails bite into the skin of his palms, letting the pain ground him. He was doing this to get Lovino back. None of this would matter once he had his brother back. He swallowed, forcing his attention away from Inkar's concerned expression.

It was a relief when their food arrived, and he focused on eating as much of it as his churning stomach would allow. He let his thoughts wander when Inkar didn't try to start a conversation.

If he didn't get Lovino back tomorrow, he didn't know what he was going to do. He and Inkar had enough money between them to afford things like food and accommodation, at least for a little while, but what happened when that ran out? They had no means of transport – their ride here had been Maharani – and since the Citadel wasn't an inter-planetary organisation, they hardly had space-worthy vessels they could borrow. From here, he didn't really have any options. He could always stowaway on a ship, he supposed, but jumping on a random ship could take him anywhere in the Galaxy. It wasn't exactly a good plan.

He sighed, resisting the urge to press his head to the table in frustration. He only had a day to think of something. And even if he did get his brother back, it looked like he was running out of options.

* * *

 _Onboard the SS Mutiny,  
Approaching the Ruma Non 'Red Pike' Anchorage,  
19th Juillat_

Elizabeta had been on a lot of interesting missions in her lifetime. She had joined the resistance right after the Expansion, when she was just 15 years old. Eleven years and numerous missions later, and this one so far was still managing to stick out as bizarre.

First of all, she and Matthew were the only real, proper 'rebels' on this mission. Alfred and Gilbert were now part of the resistance, of course, but Elizabeta tended to give people about six months before she started considering them among her peers. The two were getting there, and they seemed trustworthy, but they were also just slightly alien enough that she didn't think of them as rebels yet.

The other two on the mission were a snappy pirate and a reticient, emotionally stunted assassin. She wasn't sure which was worse. Being on a ship with Arthur Kirkland was reminding her of the time she had spent as his prisoner, which she was trying hard not to feel too bitter about. Vash Zwingli seemed to just be all-around unpleasant. So, first of all, her company was interesting.

Secondly, though they had set off from Nyma about three days ago, they hadn't immediately gone to the Red Pike. As someone who was used to having a decent amount of time to scope out an area, being told that they would be arriving the morning of the mission was stressing her out a little. They had taken a detour to Rela first, so the assassin could examine the charred remnants of his apartment. Yao hadn't explained exactly why this was part of their itinerary, but the assassin seemed satisfied enough after recovering a few objects from his own apartment and doing a brief inspection of one down the hall, where the fire had started. It had made for an odd excursion, but it was forgiveable enough.

Third, they weren't taking a rebel ship to the Red Pike, but rather Arthur Kirkland's stealthship. Unlike most rebel ships, this one had the power to jump to near-lightspeed, which had cut their journey time from Rela to Cyrassa's solar system down considerably. It was bringing back more memories of her time imprisoned onboard, but also the daring rescue her friends had mounted to get her back. She and Matthew had exchanged a grin when she'd pointed out the bullet-holes his gun had left in the walls.

Gilbert had just shaken his head at that. "It might be amusing for you, but it was fucking terrifying for us. Fucking masked motherfuckers shooting at us. Very pleasant."

His complaints had made Matthew dissolve into laughter, but Elizabeta could tell that the albino wasn't really bothered by it. She was immensely happy that he and Alfred had chosen to join the resistance. They were both very kind, amusing and capable people, and she enjoyed their company quite a lot. Since she had been directly responsible for aiding Gilbert's integration into the rebellion meant that she knew him a lot better than she did Alfred.

Kirkland seemed be thriving, now that he was back onboard his own ship again. It was still a little jarring to see his hair, in it's silverly grey shade. Granted, she hadn't seen much of him back when his hair was blond, but she had been around Chalydrantis patients enough to feel an odd dread weigh down her stomach when she noted the grey of his hair or the dark, purple colour of his nails. It had been agreed that Kirkland would wear a cap to cover his hair tomorrow. It would attract undue attention otherwise. The pirate actually seemed very excited to see his colleagues again, and he seemed to transform back into a pirate with every metre they got closer to the Red Pike.

That wasn't to say that Kirkland didn't strike out an imposing figure already – he most certainly did – but the addition of a vibrant red coat, the double-laid belts around his hips and the elaborate holstered guns that hung off them was painting an image far closer to the one she imagined when the name 'Captain Arthur Kirkland' met her ears. There were other, subtler signs too. The sharp edge had returned to his smile, where it had previously been smoothed away by the kindness and optimism of Alfred. His eyes were more wicked than they had been before. With every passing day, she was reminded more and more of the man who had refused to give her water and laughed at her desperation. It didn't sit well with her.

She really didn't know what game Yao was playing with these criminals, but she could only hope that he knew what he was doing.

"We're getting closer now." Matthew piped up from near the navigation chart. "We should be there by tomorrow morning." They all nodded.

There had been some debate about how this mission was going to play out. The only real instructions Yao had given had been to make a deal with Barkhado Dirie about finding the mystery slave. There had been general consensus that having all of them there while Arthur tried to make the deal would likely make Dirie suspicious. As far as they knew, no-one was aware that Kirkland was cooperating with the resistance.

Coordinating everyone was going to be difficult. She, Matthew and Gilbert were going to be hanging around the bar, yes, but not going near Arthur or Dirie while he was bargaining. They were to act as backup, and, while they were there, pick up any additional information from the patrons while they could. Alfred was going to enter with Arthur, and also hang around the bar, to intervene if necessary, since saints knew he was the only one who could control the callous pirate. Vash was free to wander the bar too, but the assassin had made it clear that he wanted an audience with Dirie as well. The harshness in his eyes when he'd brought it up had discouraged everyone from arguing, though Arthur had insisted that he do so after they had (hopefully) secured a deal with Dirie already.

Elizabeta sighed as she rechecked the barrel of her high-power rifle. The Red Pike was famously lawless, so they were all going in heavily armed. She had gone to a lot of warzones and conflict regions, but never before a place where laws simply _didn't_ _exist_. Matthew had tossed her a pair of mirrored sunglasses that he had been gifted as a joke by Abel a few years ago. Since she was Daernic, her eyes were immediately recognisable. No other race in the Galaxy had green eyes with gold rings around the pupils. Considering how lawless the anchorage was, she didn't put it past someone to try and capture her to sell to the Union, as Kirkland had once done.

The thought of being taken and shuttled to some rich creep with too much money and a liking for unusual eyes made her stomach churn. Yao had been sure to include basic warnings for all Free Court people going out on missions. He'd made it clear that the kind of people who enslaved free-born people would not hesitate to capture them too. As he had told her grimly one night, being from the Free Courts often bolstered one's worth on the slave market.

Elizabeta sighed, placing down the polishing rag and examining her gun again. Other than her gun, she would be going in with knives, a taser and the reliable power of her fists and feet. Not to mention, she would have Gilbert and Matthew by her sides, and she doubted that either of them would let her be taken. She could only hope that they didn't encounter any majors problems tomorrow.

Surely, this would be a quick and relatively smooth mission.

Well, hopefully.

* * *

 _The Ruma Non "Red Pike" Anchorage,  
About 350,000 km from Cyrassa,  
20th Juillat_

Barkhado sighed, a grin stretching over her face as she cracked her neck from side to side. She turned her head from side to side, examining her appearance. She had opted to go for a somewhat more lavish look today than she normally did. After all, she had a lot of different people to meet.

Her hair had been styled into it's countless tiny braids, as usual, and pulled into a high ponytail with a tight gold clasp inlaid with emeralds. She had donned a white dress shirt made of silk that she had snatched a few months ago from a rich family on Incanda, and black dress pants as well. Her pants had then been tucked into a pair of knee-height lace-up black boots with an impressive set of heels on them. She had thrown a gaudy sapphire necklace around her throat, and over the top of the whole ensemble was a black frock coat embroidered with elaborate silver patterns. She had pulled on a pair of bright red fingerless gloves, just to make a statement, and also hung multiple bright, gold piercings in her ears.

"Tolis, thoughts?" she asked her underling. He looked over at her.

"It's a good look, Captain." He said. Smiling slightly, she shut the mirrored cabinet she had been rifling through and marched out the door. The anchorage was stuffed to the brim with ships and people, many of which she knew were here purely to see her. She was rather in demand at any given time, of course, but the fact that she'd gone off the radar to avoid snooping authorities for the last four months didn't help. Her requests and meetings were piling up, and she grinned at the thought of how much gold would be lining her pockets at the end of the day.

The thought of seeing one of her friends again also greatly buoyed her spirits. It had been a long time since she'd seen Jack in person, and it would be nice to have a conversation not aided by the use of a holographic screen.

She ignored her crew as they bowed their heads in deference as she marched by, eyes fixed on the doors, which opened obediently as she stepped out, onto the anchorage. She inhaled the recycled air, a wicked grin painting itself across her face as she stepped onto the wide metal walkways of the anchorage, grinning down at the endless void of space visible below the forcefield that maintained the oxygen and gravity. She had kicked more than a few people off and into that void before. She wondered if they were still floating around in space. Biting down the laugh that the mental image aroused, she set off, eyes on the tall peaked roof of the bar where she was to greet her friends and foes alike.


	26. Deal or No Deal?

**hellloooooooo once more! A chapter you've all been waiting for! This chapter is a doozy, and according to my laptop it clocks in at 12,270 words, so get comfortable y'all!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lukas and Matthias were assigned to guerrilla squad E, run by Captain Malin Thomassen. Riya also got into a squad, but sadly not the same one. Lukas and Matthias finally acknowledged that they're actually friends.**  
 **\- Feliciano and Inkar are waiting at the anchorage after catching a lift from Dirie. Feliciano is being uncomfortably haunted by what he did to gain passage.**  
 **\- Matthew, Arthur, Alfred, Elizabeta, Vash and Gilbert have been sent to help broker the deal with Dirie, and they are almost at the anchorage.**  
 **\- Barkhado is ready for businesssssssss**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Bloody and gory fight scenes that include knife wounds, broken bones and other icky things. References to vomiting.**  
 **\- Mentions of child abuse and neglect, including physical and emotional abuse. Short semi-flashback scene about a kidnapping.**

 **Please review! I hope you guys enjoy! :D**

* * *

 _The Ruma Non "Red Pike" Anchorage,  
About 350,000 km from Cyrassa,  
20th Juillat_

 _10:13am_

Lovino frowned slightly, being careful not to disturb Lili, who had fallen asleep against his arm last night. The stillness of the ship was a vast change from the shuddering that had passed through the hull maybe forty minutes ago. He knew that they had to be parked somewhere, and that for that to be possible, they were either on a planet or at an anchorage.

It likely wasn't the former, as the ship would have heated up a little from entering any sort of viable atmosphere. Probably an anchorage, then. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes with the arm that wasn't pillowing Lili's head. If he could only get some sort of idea of where they were, then he could have devised a plan to get off the ship.

 _It's harder to get three people off a ship than one, though_. His mind supplied. That was one unexpected result of spending weeks on this ship. He had started to subconsciously account for Lili and Eladina in any escape plans that came to mind. He knew that he couldn't leave them without suffering from crushing guilt as a result. Eladina's joyous laughter and dumb jokes, and Liliana's innocent smile and almost soul-crushingly sincere kindness reminded him far too much of Feliciano.

He hoped that his brother was okay. He had no idea if Feli had even managed to escape the pirates. Perhaps he had been kidnapped too, by a different group, and all of this was for nothing. Maybe that Zephyrak had gone after him and either driven him off Rela or straight-up killed him. His stomach turned at the very idea. No, he couldn't afford to think like that. His brother was smart, and very resourceful. He would find a way to take care of himself.

Thinking of Feli was getting harder and harder by the day. It had been almost a month since Lovino had been captured by the pirates. The two of them had never been apart this long. Even as children, when Lovino was permitted to travel to Fynkn to see Lukas Bondevik, he had never stayed more than two weeks. As his grandfather had always sharply reminded him if he asked to visit just slightly too often, it did no good to have the heir to Syhvva's throne off on other planets constantly.

He knew that his grandfather had a point, but given that he spent all his time on Syhvva being yelled at for simple mistakes and crying himself to sleep, he had also been very bitter that he couldn't spend more time in the wintery wonderland that, by the time of the Expansion, had started to feel like a second home.

His heart twisted still to think of what life had been like, way back then. He had been devoted to lessons in history and mathematics and language, which had formed part of the foundations of a life of monotony and shame as he endured verbal and occasionally physical abuse at the hands of his grandfather. His visits to Fynkn had been the bright bursts of colour to interrupt the monochrome. He had always found himself loved and attended to on Fynkn. He got to enjoy getting hugged and having his hair mussed by Astrid and Oskar Bondevik, and run wildly with Lukas, who then had been his best friend. All of the best memories he had between the ages of four and nine were of Fynkn.

Lukas hadn't had policy shoved down his throat, and he had seemed positively aghast when Lovino had quietly admitted one night, when they were slumbering under their blanket fort, that his grandfather hit him when he messed up using his abilities. Apparently, when Lukas messed up, his father would patiently ask him what exactly he was having problems with, give him advice and ask him to try again. Being told that had reduced a younger Lovino to tears.

He had cried a lot on Fynkn because it was one of the few places where he was allowed to. On Syhvva, if his teachers saw, there was nothing they could do but sit stiffly and wait for him to calm down. Most of them had wanted to do more, he could tell. One of them had always made sure to escort him to a room with a lock on the door before bending down and hugging him gently. Most didn't dare risk it though. Most just let him cry, but he never got punished for it if it was in front of one of his teachers.

If his grandfather saw, on the other hand, he would be in for more lectures and yelling about being strong and responsible, which normally just made him cry more.

His grandfather had made him feel like a failure at every opportunity, and though now, with the benefit of hindsight, Lovino was able to recognise that the fault lay with his grandfather and not him, it had been deeply damaging to hear and experience the abuse he had had inflicted on him whe he was little. He still couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was useless, or incapable, or outright deficient, and unsuitable to do anything but keep his head down and mouth shut. Lovino had always been too loud, too energetic, too moody, too immature, too naïve for his grandfather's tastes. As he well should have been. He was a _child_ at the time.

He glanced down at Liliana, still sleeping on his arm like how Feliciano had done countless times when he was younger. He had raised his brother single-handedly, and Feli had somehow turned out to be one of the sweetest and most selfless people in the universe. It was better than what his grandfather had managed, anyway. Lovino couldn't remember his mother too well, so he only had himself as an example. And he was bitter, callous, angry and hateful. He wasn't sure if that was a reflection on his grandfather's terrible parenting skills or on his own foul personality traits. Perhaps a mixture of both.

Usually, he could dispel the hateful thoughts that came to mind. But he was usually around Feli, a living and breathing example that not everything Lovino touched ended up broken, a symbol of joy and optimism in a situation that really should have crushed such positivity by now. But right now, he wasn't around his brother, and he was finding it harder to drag himself out of his own depressing memories and dark thoughts. He couldn't let himself go under, though. He looked down at Lili's peaceful expression. He might not have Feli, but there were still people here who could use his protection. Lili was only a kid, just barely fourteen years old. Even younger than Feli was.

Lovino pressed his head back against the cold metal of the walls. He had to keep his wits about him. Something was going to happen soon, he could feel it.

* * *

 _12:37pm_

"It's a strange thing to ask of someone, that I will readily admit." Jack said, scratching at the five o'clock shadow on his jaw. "And here I was thinking that you just wanted to see me for a good old chat." Barkhado smiled.

"I did want to see you, Jack, you know I did. But this whole thing came up about a week ago." She shook her head. "I don't like it when the feds get too close on my tail, you know that. And these ones are closer than anyone's gotten in the past. They won't dare do anything while I'm on the Pike, of course, but I can't go losing so much money because I don't have the appropriate papers. My raid on Bibesti got me out with tens of millions worth of goods."

Jack sighed, but smiled. "I have feds on my tail, too, but save one determined asshole, I have a good amount of breathing room. I can take them all while you put some distance between you and them. If you don't grab them all in the next three weeks, though, I can't promise I won't sell them off. I have a sale to those Xeir fuckers coming up soon, and from what I've heard, you got some nice stock in Bibesti."

Barkhado smiled. "Very nice indeed. I would show you, but I don't want to draw any undue attention." She leant forward a little. "I will need you to be very careful, though, some of those _goods_ are bargaining chips I have in play with some powerful people. If I lose those, there's no telling what vengeful demons might come after me." Jack nodded.

"I'll do my best. I would never intentionally tank you like that, Barky, you know that." She smiled at the affectionate nickname and nodded. Jack signalled to one of Barkhado's underlings. She passed on the orders to him, and he nodded darting away. She turned back to face him.

"Do be careful with it all." Jack rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"I will! I promise, your goods will be in tip-top shape when you get them back. I wouldn't do you like that. I'll transfer you the cash." Barkhado nodded. They had agreed on a 'safety net' of a few million marks just in case any extenuating circumstances or unforeseen adversaries made Jack lose her goods.

"Good. I know you wouldn't tank me, Jack, but I feel like it's pertinent to mention anyway." Jack snorted.

"'Pertinent', eh? You've spent too much time with Arthur." Barkhado laughed.

"Oh, I wish. I've seen neither hair nor hide of him since Fybwari." Jack sighed, shrugging.

"Me either, in all honesty. Do you think the Union got their hands on him? They aren't his biggest fan." Barkhado hummed.

"Maybe. I'm not sure though. There are a lot of people who hate him."

"True, but the Union's been especially pissy with him recently. Maybe they set him up in that torture ship they have flying around." Barkhado raised an eyebrow.

"The Arbiter? Now, now, Jack, I think that's meant to be a state secret." Jack snorted.

"Maybe five years ago. Nothing is a state secret if you look hard enough for it." Barkhado tilted her head.

"I suppose so. I doubt they'd put him there, though. They use that for the real problematic ones. Traitors and rebels and traitorous rebels and all of that. It'd be regular old prison for Artie, I reckon. Even so, I doubt he's been arrested. Can you imagine the headlines if they actually got him? He's been a pain in the ass for so long that they wouldn't shut up about it for weeks. Hell, might be lucky enough to get _months_ worth of coverage."

"That's very true." He muttered, leaning back in his chair as his gaze slid from her face to the windows. He went still. "That's _very_ true." He said, a grin stretching over his face. "You know that old saying, right? Speak of the devil and they shall appear?" raising an eyebrow in confusion, she looked over her shoulder, though the second-storey window, to where a very familiar ship had just docked.

"I think…" Barkhado said slowly, "…we should see if there are any available parlour rooms."

* * *

 _1:04pm_

If Arthur could strut anymore, he would be a peacock, Gilbert thought bleakly as he scurried off the ship, rolling his eyes at the pirate Captain. Elizabeta looked amused at this, and just nodded as if to say 'yeah, I know, right?'. Gilbert scratched at his clothes. He had a cap pulled low over his face and was wearing long sleeved _everything_. Like the mirrored sunglasses sitting on Elizabeta's face, it was purely a precaution. As Matthew had pointed out, Cyrassa was in the same solar system as Galee, so it was entirely possible that there would be Garvich on the anchorage. Gilbert had been thankful that someone had brought it up first. He didn't like mentioning his parents to anyone, and it was a relief that Matthew, Elizabeta and Alfred had already known that tidbit.

Arthur and Vash had been unaware of it, of course, but neither had been too bothered. Arthur had just nodded and said 'ahh, so that's why you have albinism', while Vash had shrugged and looked just as disinterested as ever. Pyndaphians tended to have very negative views of incest of any kind, but in that regard, they didn't pin the crime on the child, but rather the parents, which was something Gilbert agreed with a great deal.

Elizabeta had practically doused him in her many different perfumes, while Matthew had thrown his leather jacket over Gilbert's shoulders, since it smelled very strongly of machine oil and gunpowder. The conflicting smells were mildly nauseating, but he didn't mind it too much. Especially since he got to wear Matthew's jacket, which was incredibly comfortable and, under the haze of oil and gunpowder, smelled like him.

Gilbert turned his attention to the task at hand so that he could stop himself from becoming even more of a weird stalker than he already was. Elizabeta appeared at his side, grinning encouragingly and Matthew also sidled up, smiling warmly. Gilbert forced his eyes away from the dazzling sight and instead took to scanning the surrounding area absently. Unfortunately, Matthew and Elizabeta took this action as a clear sign of nerves.

"Hey, don't stress yourself out," Matthew murmured, leaning into Gilbert's space as he did so, "even if there are any Garvich here, we'll make sure they don't get near you." Gilbert nodded, smiling anxiously. He was a little concerned, in all honesty. The lawlessness of this place meant that quite literally anything could happen.

Arthur and Alfred were lingering out the front of the ship, with the former looking impatient and the latter looking around curiously. Arthur was dressed up in all his gear; red coat, hair-obscuring black cap, black gloves to hide his dark nails, revolvers and all.

"We're gonna head in now." Arthur said after clearing his throat. "Barkhado's ship is here, which means that she is too, so I'd better get on with it." He inclined his head at Alfred. "Shall we?" Alfred blinked, but smiled widely and nodded.

"Yeah, let's go."

Gilbert watched them approach the bar before turning back to face Matthew and Elizabeta. Vash, dressed entirely in monochrome shades and face beset with a vicious scowl, jerked his chin at them.

"And what should I do?" he snapped.

Elizabeta furrowed her brow.

"You're welcome to wander, if you want. Ah, just a moment." And with that, she pulled a metallic clasp from her pocket and clasped it around Vash's wrist. He jerked in surprise, eyes narrowing as it beeped electronically. He sneered at her.

"A tracker, really?" he snapped. Elizabeta shrugged.

"Why would we trust you to go off by yourself? It's a sensible precaution." She said, looking unfazed by the fury on his face. "Do what you want until Kirkland's done with Dirie. We're heading in now." Vash snatched his wrist out of her grasp and turned on his heel, marching down the anchorage. Elizabeta raised an eyebrow. "My my, he's a moody one, eh?"

Matthew sighed. "You're telling me. Come on, we'd best find ourselves some seats inside."

* * *

 _1:09pm_

It had been far too long since he'd gone to the Red Pike, Arthur thought, grinning as he darted up the wide, mahogany stairs that led to the front doors. He really had missed this place. The entire building had the appearance and styling of a large, vintage country house. It was made of brick and wood all painted in shades of deep red and maroon, with white trimming and a wrap-around bleached wood balcony. The very top of the building had a collection of antique pikes – hence the name – lining the roof. The windows were all pink and green stained glass, and all slightly marred so that you couldn't look inside from the outside. If you wanted to stir up trouble with someone, you had to come inside to do so. He sighed. Just standing on the aged, creaking boards was bringing back good memories.

Alfred was trailing after him, looking around curiously. Rolling back his shoulders, Arthur let his signature, wicked smirk grace his face as he swung the doors open, Alfred following him closely. The bouncer stood just inside, expression stern until he looked over and recognised Arthur. His expression cleared and he nodded him through.

"Kirkland." He paused, eyes narrowing and posture stiffening as he began examining Alfred. "Friend of yours?"

"Do you think I'd let him so close to my heels if he wasn't?" Arthur drawled, raising an eyebrow. The bouncer grinned, accepting his response, and inclined his head towards the doors that led to the main parlour.

"That is very true. Enjoy." Arthur smirked and marched through, shoving the doors open without hesitation, uncaring when they slammed against the walls loudly. His grandiose entrance attracted a few interested looks, that just as quickly shifted from intrigue to fear, shocked recognition or even anger. He could hear Alfred shuffling his feet uncertainly behind him, but he didn't deign to look back at him. He glanced around. He could see a lot of faces that he recognised here. The main parlour of the bar was a wide open space, with the drinks bar itself crammed into one corner. The spaces near the windows were crammed with armchairs, tables and other, almost homely additions.

There was a set of wide stairs that led up to the second floor, which was a collection of more relaxed sections to sit. The parlour was known, above all else, for it's fights and shootouts. There were a few sections of the parlour, behind the bar, where the floor was purposefully sunken down a little, almost like you were stepped down into a hot-tub. Those spaces had cushioned seats lining the hexagonal edges and a low table in the centre, with little steps to lead down to them.

Though he eyed the sunken down booths, Arthur didn't move towards them straight away. After days spent in a ship with righteous rebels, a scowling assassin and Alfred's snarky double, he knew what his first stop was going to be. The bartender and owner of the Pike, a tall Metteoan man named Miris Cantor, raised an eyebrow as he approached the bar.

"Mr Kirkland, it's been a while." He murmured. "I've brought in a lot of new drinks since you were last here." Arthur raised an eyebrow, running his gaze across the bottles at the back, pretending that they were actually talking about alcohol.

"Oh? What would you recommend?" Miris hummed for a moment, eyes sliding to Alfred as the blond moved up to the bar as well.

"Our new Nymian bourbon is especially nice, as is the Blackjack rum I got in from the Far Reaches." Arthur nodded, a smile stretching across his face. So, both Barkhado and Jack Kelly were here, then. That was a pleasant surprise.

"I might indulge later." He said, keeping his tone light. "For now, I'll settle for a vodka tonic." Miris nodded, relaxing a little. In addition to being a perfectly fine drink, it sent the message that any long-time patron of the Red Pike had picked up on. Miris took the cue to start preparing it, eyeing Alfred. "And your friend here?" Alfred jumped a little, looking surprised at being addressed directly.

"Uhh…" he trailed off uncertainly. Arthur examined the bottles behind the bartender keenly. Alfred was a newcomer, and he didn't know the code that Miris used with all of his older friends. But Arthur did, and luckily for him, he thought that the appropriate codeword would also be pleasing to Alfred's tastebuds.

"You have a sweet tooth, right?" he said, directing this line of inquiry at Alfred. His boyfriend nodded, biting his lip somewhat anxiously. "The _mibora_ , then." Miris nodded, the line in his his brow easing when he next looked at Alfred. A moment later, he handed their two drinks over the counter.

"Does your friend know the rules of this bar?" Miris directed the question at both of them but kept his gaze on Alfred, squinting slightly. Arthur smiled slightly. Miris had never liked newcomers, and not just because they didn't know the little 'codes' of the place. Newcomers also tended to not be aware of Miris' more specific rules, which annoyed the man to no end. He had treated Arthur similarly the first time he had ever visited this place.

"Of course." Arthur said crisply, placing his drink down for a moment to make eye contact with Miris. "If you cause a ruckus, you pay for it. Remove any casualities you create. If someone buys you a drink, buy them one in return if they want. Don't attack the sick or young." Arthur grinned. "I still do find it fascinating that you apply Metteoan customs here." Miris shrugged.

"It's nice to have something of home here. Besides, you know how we get with illness." Arthur nodded, his scalp itching slightly as he recalled how very Chalydrantis-ridden he looked without the benefit of the beanie on his head or the black gloves on his hands. Metteon people placed huge emphasis on health and care. To attack someone who was sick was to commit a severe felony for them. Though he had previously thought the rule was somewhat foolish, today he was grateful for Miris' cultural customs. If things got ugly, he could rely on the fact that the bar would be on his side for once. Miris again looked at Alfred. "Will your friend have any problem following those rules?" Arthur grinned.

"Oh, no, he's a good boy, I promise. A _mibora_ drinker through and through." Miris nodded. Arthur scooped his drink back up and had turned to go when Miris spoke again.

"Grab a meal if you make your way to the refec at any point, too. You're looking thin." Arthur raised an eyebrow, but inclined his head in silent agreement. In addition to a smart man and an excellent bartend, Miris was also known for underexaggerating things. If even he was commenting on Arthur's thinness, then it was probably more noticeable than he had wanted it to be.

He marched off, eyes scanning the parlour for any sign of the loud people he was here to see. The parlour was rather populated, but he couldn't see any sign of Barkhado or her crew. He heard Alfred make a surprised sound and spun around, smiling when he saw the former bounty hunter happily sipping at the drink Miris had made him.

"It's good!" he exclaimed, eyes bright with excitement. Arthur grinned.

"I thought you would like it. I've been here enough to have tried most of the drinks. Reminds you of that caramel thing the kitchens make, doesn't it?" Alfred exclaimed in agreement, nodding with a grin on his face. Arthur ignored the warmth that burst to life in his chest. "As glad as I am that you're savouring it, we have to find Barkhado. I saw her ship docked further along the anchorage, and judging by what Miris said, she's in the bar now." Alfred's expression became more serious, and he nodded, shooting a mournful look at his drink as he also scanned the parlour. His boyfriend blinked.

"Wait, how can you tell that she's here from what the guy said?" Arthur smiled softly at him.

"Did you ever watch that old show _45 Down_?" he asked. Alfred brightened as Arthur continued to scan the room.

"You mean the old spy one? Yeah, I loved that show! It was one of the only things that our broke-ass TV on Rywan could pick up."

"You remember how the two main characters had an innocuous code they used to send messages but also avoid detection?" Alfred nodded. "It's like that. I normally don't have such an interest in what alcohol I'm drinking." Realisation crossed Alfred's face and he nodded. Arthur grinned. It was a simple system, and it let Miris know whether or not he needed to activate the bullet-proof shields behind the bar at any point in the evening. There were some basic drinks he used for people's intentions while in the bar, while other drinks acted as codes for specific people. Those were ordered often in conjunction with others, to show what your intentions with that one person were.

Arthur's drink, a vodka tonic, was code for 'I'm not looking for trouble tonight'. It let Miris know that he wasn't looking to fight or kill anyone, but that he also wasn't necessarily not going to meet that trouble head on if it found him first. Alfred's drink, a unique alcohol called mibora, was essentially code for a newcomer who was pretty much harmless. Nymian bourbon was how Miris referred to Barkhado Dirie, and Blackjack rum was how he referred to Jack Kelly.

The front door swung open, and Arthur's gaze slid over. It was Elizabeta, Matthew and Gilbert, having finally arrived from the ship. Arthur made eye contact with Elizabeta but let his gaze slide easily over them, not betraying the fact that he knew them. He had explicitly told them to all order screwdrivers that night; a nod to Miris that they were here with someone else, but they weren't going to do anything by themselves. Elizabeta had seemed baffled by his insistence, but she had eventually caved. Shuffling a little closer to the bar, he relaxed when he heard her purposefully ask for three screwdrivers. Nodding to himself, he sipped at his own drink and examined the room again, stilling when he saw that one of the sunken parlour booths, previously empty, was now occupied.

He saw Matthew, Elizabeta and Gilbert accept their drinks from Miris and move away to sit in at one of the tables in the parlour. Turning his body fluidly in the direction of the sunken booth, he set off, not bothering to check that Alfred was following him. He glimpsed a familiar set of long, dark braids and grinned. He slowed his pace a little so that Alfred could catch up, before smoothly sweeping down the stairs and sitting down on the cushioned seats, crossing his legs as he looked at his friends. Barkhado and Jack just grinned; they had obviously come to talk to him. Alfred hovered awkwardly by the stairs for a moment before Arthur indicated the space next to him, and he ducked into it gratefully. Barkhado's eyes followed Alfred curiously for a moment before Jack broke the silence.

"You know, comms _are_ a thing. You don't have to adopt total radio silence when you aren't in the area." Arthur smirked and sipped at his drink again. Barkhado had wine, while Jack was drinking whiskey. Barkhado was here to make a deal and Jack was just passing through. Interesting.

"I am sorry for my absence. I've had a very interesting few months."

"Oh?" Barkhado raised an eyebrow, a wicked grin taking over her face as her gaze jumped to Alfred. "Would it have anything to do with the cutie you've brought with you?" Alfred, who had been sipping his mibora nervously, coughed a little and placed his drink back on the table. Barkhado's grin widened as she noted what Arthur had bought for him. Arthur gave a non-commital shrug.

"In part. I had a few nasty run-ins, some close brushes with imprisonment, you know the drill." Barkhado nodded, placing her wine elegantly on the table and leaning forward, studying Alfred curiously.

"My god, that facial structure." She said, tone wicked. "Where did you find him?" Arthur shrugged as Alfred stuttered and blushed in surprise.

"Technically speaking, an anchorage, but if you want someone similar, go sifting through Rywan and you might strike gold." Barkhado's eyes glittered with delight as she leaned back and clasped her hands together.

"Ohh, it has been _so_ long since I went to Rywan. I might just take up that suggestion of yours." She said, nodding at Arthur and grinning at Alfred. Jack rolled his eyes affectionately.

"That's all very well and good, but usually your absences aren't so long. I understand that we all have some conflicting schedules, but you were gone for quite a while. Mid-Fybwari to late Juillat is a long time to go off the radar." Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? Worried, Kelly?" the roguishly handsome pirate shrugged.

"Hey now, we're friends, of course I was worried. Barky and I were debating whether or not the Union snatched you up and threw you in prison." Arthur smiled wryly. _That would almost have been simpler_ , he lamented internally _, but then, I would be dead right now if that was the case_.

"Oh, come on, we all know that unless it's something related to the Free Courts, the Union doesn't really give a shit." He waved a hand dismissively. "If I was Syhvvanian or something, they would care, but a poor little Pyndaphian boy like me? I'm really rather inconsequential." Barkhado's glittered.

"That's a good point. Speaking of Syhvvanians, I snatched one up a few weeks ago." She leant back in her chair. "They're as pretty as everyone says." Jack sighed, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Barkhado, you think just about everyone and everything is pretty." He and Arthur exchanged a fond but mildly aggravated look. "Enough about your little Syhvvanian prize." Jack took a sip of his whiskey and pointed at Alfred. "I'm curious to know about _you_. Honestly, Arthur, you lecture me over my manners but don't even have the decency to introduce your companion? That's rather rude, if I do say so myself." Jack took another sip of his drink, placed it on the table and extended his hand to Alfred. Alfred shook it, looking mildly apprehensive. Jack grinned. "Ahh, nice handshake. I like people with a good, strong handshake. Barkhado just about broke my fingers when we first met, and that's how I knew we would be friends for life." Barkhado rolled her eyes, but she too looked curious about Alfred.

"As idiotic as Jack is, I must agree." She tilted her head as she looked him up and down. "Why are you accompanying our dear Arthur on this lovely afternoon?" Alfred blinked in surprise, glancing at Arthur, obviously uncertain of how much he should reveal to them. Arthur sighed.

"He's my boyfriend," Arthur said, ignoring Barkhado's squeal of delight at that, "and no, that does not give either of you the right to question him about my sex life." Jack pouted while Barkhado laughed, still grinning deviously.

"Ahh well. I guess I'll just have to get him alone and interrogate him later at some point." Barkhado teased, winking at Alfred. "Good to see that you've found someone who isn't a total degenerate for once." Arthur glared at her, but Barkhado only laughed. It was true, his dating track-record wasn't great, and most of those relationships had been very short-lived, but that didn't mean that she had to bring it up, and in front of his current partner, to add insult to injury. Alfred didn't look overtly bothered by her comments, thankfully, but that didn't mean that Barkhado was forgiven for making them.

Arthur swirled his vodka and tonic absently. "What about you two? How have the last few months served you?" Jack shrugged, making a face that indicated it clearly hadn't been as good as he might have hoped. Barkhado, conversely, grinned.

"Well, Jack's been moaning about poor profits recently, but I've had a marvellous time." She crowed. "I'll never understand why you two don't ever join in the Three Days' Reign. It's so fun! Not to mention, you get a hell of a profit from it." Arthur rolled his eyes while Jack shrugged, not looking convinced. Barkhado sighed. "Now, I know that Artie here isn't a fan of the whole slavery thing, but Jack, you have no excuse!" Jack her an odd look.

"I'm sure your crew enjoys themselves, Barkhado, but I don't think it would hold much interest for me. I'm not a rapist and I don't kill pointlessly, so it seems a waste." Barkhado shrugged.

"Suit yourselves. I did snatch up some good loot, though." She inclined her head at Arthur. "And as much as you dislike slavery, Syhvvanians are worth a hell of a lot, so I'll cherish my spoils." Arthur shrugged, sipping at his drink.

"How in the system did you find a Syhvvanian, anyway?" he inquired, curiosity piqued by her comments. Barkhado shrugged, smiling coyly.

"He was just running along in the streets, I don't know why he was there but I certainly did get lucky. Klaus snatched him up. He'll make a fair price on the market." Arthur hummed, sipping at his drink, feeling his stomach churn a little. Spending time with so many Free Court people was making him feel guilty just by engaging in this conversation. Previously, though he disagreed with slavery, he was able to brush the comments off, but it felt oddly personal now. He was glad that Mei and Leon weren't here to hear this.

Some of his discomfort must have shown itself on his face, because Barkhado's sharp grin faded a little. "I'll pass him on somewhere decent. No snuffers. God knows that Free Courters are in short enough supply nowadays." Arthur nodded absently, but felt the knot in his stomach ease. Jack leant back in his seat, taking a deep gulp of his whiskey as a young man approached their sunken booth.

"Captain Kelly." The man said. Jack raised an eyebrow. "We've finished loading up Dirie's cargo."

"Ahh, thank you Daniel." He threw his subordinate a flirtatious wink. "I think I'll hang around with my friends for a little while longer, though. The crew can mill around the anchorage if they so desire." The man nodded before scurrying off to undoubtedly pass on the message. Arthur raised an eyebrow. Dirie's cargo? That was unusual. His friends noticed his curiosity and elaborated.

"I'm shedding some cargo and leaving it with Jack so I can get feds off my tail for a while. I would have asked you to take some on, too, but the majority are prisoners, and I know you don't like that sort of thing." Arthur hummed as she continued. "I've given him permission to on-sell some of them, of course, with a decent safety net in my pocket." He nodded. On-selling and safety nets were old tactics. Pirates were known for giving cargo to others for safe-keeping and, occasionally, giving them permission to then sell that cargo to their own buyers. The purpose of a safety net was a payment made to the pirate lending the cargo in the case that the receiver lost, damaged or destroyed that property, either accidentally or deliberately.

Alfred looked a little puzzled by the whole conversation, but stayed quiet and didn't voice his confusion. Good. Arthur had told him to avoid speaking or asking questions of Dirie while they were here, and so far, he was sticking to that.

"Now, as much as I do appreciate your company, and I do mean that," Barkhado said, leaning forward, "I also know that you, Arthur, are a man of business. Of the three of us, you're the least likely to come along somewhere for a good old chat. As much as I wish that you were here purely to catch up, I know that you aren't. What are you here for?" Arthur sighed, leaning back as he felt his stomach turn a little.

"You aren't wrong, Barkhado." He lamented. "It is wonderful to see you both again, truly, it is, but I do have business to conduct, too." He crossed one leg over the other and stretched his arms along the back of the couch. "I need your help finding a very hard to find person." He directed this at Barkhado. A pleased smile crossed her face.

"That is a department that I excel in." she said smoothly. "Who, exactly?"

"A slave owned by Hamide Boushab." He said simply. Barkhado blinked.

"Ahh, a challenge. Good. What details do you have on them?" Arthur rummaged around in his pockets and pulled out the transmission information that Yao had told him to pass onto Dirie. He handed it over and she examined it carefully. "Hmm, no name or location. An auctions list, though, and an age and ethnicity. Those will help."

"Can you do it?" he asked. Barkhado looked up at him, folding the paper and slipping it into one of her pockets, zipping it shut.

"I can. Might take several weeks, and longer than usual since I'm travelling light, but I should be able to do that for you." He sighed in relief.

"Ahh, excellent." Barkhado smiled.

"I will need any other parameters, of course, and usual business details-" Arthur felt his stomach twist violently, and one of his hands closed into a fist. Fuck. The medication that he took for his Chalydrantis was vastly preferable over Malthecs, to be sure, but it didn't erase all of his symptoms quite as effectively as the old medication had done. Unfortunately, even though his cancerous growth was in his brain, one common side effect of the toxins was nausea, and, more dammingly, vomiting. And judging by the extremely unpleasant sensations currently passing through his abdomen, those things were about to strike him down.

"Yes, of course," he said, interrupting Barkhado mid-sentence, "I just need to excuse myself for a moment, if you don't mind. We can talk the finer details when I get back." And without any further explanation, he jumped up from his seat and moved in the direction of the bathroom, trying not to look too much like the contents of his stomach were about to violently eject themselves.

* * *

 _1:32pm_

Elizabeta's gaze followed Arthur's retreating form with concern. His conversation with the pirates seemed to have been going well, but just a minute ago he had suddenly jumped to his feet and departed. Dirie and Kelly looked a little confused, but generally unbothered. Alfred, upon being left alone with the two pirates, now looked nothing less than scared shitless.

Despite their rocky relationship, though, Elizabeta couldn't help the stab of concern that had arisen when he had jumped up and run off. She had only been able to see the side of his face, but he had looked pale and rapidly going a nasty colour. His Chalydrantis made him susceptible to vomiting at times, that much she knew. It could hardly be pleasant, and she winced in sympathy before turning back to her own table.

She, Matthew and Gilbert had followed Arthur's directions and sat a decent distance away. They could still see everything that went on in the pirates' booth, but they weren't close enough to eavesdrop. They had also all ordered screwdrivers, a drink that Elizabeta very plainly didn't like. She had sipped at it once, wrinkled her nose in distaste and pushed it gently to the middle of the table. Matthew had gradually sipped at his, while Gilbert, who still looked a little on edge, had finished his own and ended up snatching hers from the middle of the table.

She had no problem with him taking it; she didn't like the damn thing, but she was concerned about the rate at which he was drinking it. The board had said that a screwdriver made here had an alcohol content of up to 35%. Considering their size, if he kept drinking at the rate he was, they would be hauling his ass out of the bar rather than following him. She watched Matthew smoothly pluck the glass from Gilbert's hand and place it back over near Elizabeta. The albino flushed, and Matthew smiled comfortingly.

"I know that you're nervous," he said, "but we need to stay alert." Gilbert nodded, face still flushed as he mumbled what might have been apologies under his breath. Elizabeta patted his arm gently, quickly glancing back at the booth. Dirie and Kelly seemed to be engaging Alfred in conversation, and she was relieved to see that Alfred looked a little more relaxed than he had before, and was talking back casually enough.

Her attention was pulled away as the door swung open and a group of dirty, bedraggled men came inside. She made a face as they leered at a woman sitting alone in one corner. They didn't make the same gesture to her, though she guessed that was likely sheerly due to the fact that Gilbert and Matthew were with her. She carefully avoided eye contact with them. Her eyes were what betrayed her as Daernic, and she didn't like the look of this group. Beside her, Gilbert stiffened. She looked at him. His expression was twisted with distaste as he lowered his gaze back to the table. She gently elbowed him.

"You know who they are?" she asked, voice low. Gilbert nodded as Matthew also leaned in to catch their conversation.

"People call them the Spades. They're a bunch of thugs that go around knocking off high-profile criminals. Not to be good or anything, but just for the sake of gaining more infamy. They're fucking creeps and rapists too, if rumours are to be believed." Elizabeta shuddered. It made their leering at the woman in the bar far more sinister, if that was true. She, Gilbert and Matthew, along with what appeared to be all of the other patrons of the bar, watched them step up to the counter where the owner was regarding them cautiously and cleaning a glass.

"Afternoon, Miris." One of them said, voice gravelly. "Whatta ya got in today?"

The bar owner frowned, scrubbing the glass he was holding in silence for a long moment. "A lot of the usual." He said after a pause. "I wasn't expecting to see you and your crew here today." The man grinned maliciously.

"Well, we were in the area so we thought we'd stop by." He crowed. "Don't pull that shit with me, Miris. What have you got in today?" he was so deliberate when saying the second sentence that Elizabeta frowned. The bartender frowned, locked in stony silence for a long minute before responding.

"…Nymian bourbon. Blackjack rum. We got some Pyndaphian gin just recently." The man smiled wickedly.

"Ohhh, I see. Thanks, Miris." He said. "I might try some of that gin later." The barowner's expression got even more closed off. The man grinned. "We'll all be having bloody marys." The conversations from the tables closest to the bar stopped short, and Elizabeta realised that there was something she had missed. Matthew seemed to be on the same wavelength, as he was muttering to himself. He reached over and tapped her arm.

"Drink orders mean something here." He murmured. She raised a sceptical eyebrow, and Matthew shrugged. "Think about it. Everyone reacted when he ordered bloody marys, and Arthur very specifically told us to all get screwdrivers. It must mean something." Gilbert nodded.

"People do seem to be very careful about what they order here." He muttered. "If that is the case, then I doubt that bloody marys mean good things, considering the reaction it got." Elizabeta watched the bartender hand over a platter of bloody marys and then fiddle with something behind the bar. The air around the bar seemed to shimmer and warp for a moment before fading back to normal. Gilbert cursed. "That's an axion forcefield."

She turned to face him. "And that's a bad thing?"

Gilbert gave her a long look. "They're the strongest you can get, designed to withstand fucking missile fire. That bartender is anticipating trouble." Elizabeta bit her lip in concern. That definitely wasn't a good sign. She watched the group settle into an alcove filled with plush chairs and sip at their drinks. At the same time, she saw a pale but relatively okay-looking Arthur emerge from the bathroom he had run off too. His gaze immediately locked onto the newcomers, and he slunk back into the booth he'd taken with the other pirates, resolutely avoiding eye contact.

Elizabeta felt her heart sink. This wasn't going to end well.

* * *

 _1:45pm_

Vash scowled up at the façade of the Red Pike, hands clenched into fists. He had done as the rebels had bid and wandered around the anchorage, trying vainly to blow off steam. It was possible that Kirkland was done breaking his deal, but it was also entirely possible that the pirate was still blathering on to Dirie endlessly. He shoved his hands into his pockets. He hated this whole situation.

Not just the fact that Dirie had Lili, of course, though that was by far the worst of his problems. He hated being a prisoner of the rebels, hated being at their beck and call because of how deep-founded and intense his desire to get his little sister back was. He hated Barkhado Dirie herself, for thinking that she had the right to tear his family apart and take the one person he cared about most in the whole world.

He sighed, moving to sit on the balcony outside rather than stepping inside immediately. For all her condescending words, Hedervary was right about one thing, he did need to calm down. Going charging in there would solve nothing. And besides, it was custom to let Miris know what your intentions were before you actually did anything. It was the one rule on the anchorage that everyone actually respected and followed.

There was a part of him that wanted nothing better than to charge in, grab Dirie and squeeze the life from her. She had ruined his life over a stray bullet.

He hadn't even meant to kill the man whose death she was holding against him. Okeriete Abara was a crime lord and a mogul, but no-one had asked Vash to kill him, so he hadn't bothered. He had been in the bar that night to kill someone else. He had gotten them, yes, and for two weeks, he had thought he was successful. Abara, at the time, had been an accidental but not entirely unfortunate casualty. It happened all the time. Collateral damage was part of any criminal career. He hadn't given the mogul's death any real thought, and nor had he spent time worrying over the enraged, vengeful young woman with him at the time.

He'd been made to understand two weeks after the fact. He had gotten a phone call from his parents at what had, for him, been 4am. At first, he hadn't been able to make out anything they were saying. After a while, he had figured out what they were trying to tell him, though.

 _"I don't want to speak to you ever again. I have tolerated this behaviour, but I want nothing of it. If you show your face around here again, I'll give you some of your own medicine!"_ That was what his mother said, shrieking her fury and indignation into the receiver. He had been baffled and confused. A little hurt, yes, but he had tried to dismiss those feelings to get to the bottom of his parent's distress. His father, normally so calm and collected, had screamed the reason over the phone. Three sentences that made Vash's blood go cold.

 _"Lili! That fucking pirate took your fucking sister! She's been taken from us because of you!"_

He knew it was Dirie, because that day, he had received a message from her detailing exactly what measures he had to take to get his younger sister back. Her message had been brief, simple and chillingly to the point.

 _To one Mr 'Vash' 'Zwingli',_

 _As your aggrieved parents may have already informed you, I currently have your sister in my custody. This is reparation for the murder of Okeriete Abara. I won't kill her, if you abide by my conditions._

 _My late boss's bank account held approximately 13,405,667 marks at the time of his death. I anticipate receiving this amount, either in full or paid in increments. Once your balance is even, I will return your sister to you. If you try to track me down and take her by force, I will let every member of my 113-man crew rape her, slit her throat and toss her body out into open space._

 _I await your first payment._

 _Barkhado Dirie, Captain of the SS Larcenist_

He still had a copy of that chilling message, or at least, he had up until the fire that had wiped out his apartment. He hardly needed a paper copy, though. He had long since memorised every letter of the message. He had been trying to scrounge up the whole amount that Dirie was looking for for the last two years. The amount that he had paid to her currently sat at 13,405,567 marks. He was just a hundred marks short, which was the amount of money he currently had on his person. He was so, unbearably close to his goal that he could practically see his sister, being dangled in front of him like a prize as she was.

He didn't know whether his sister would ever forgive him, but he didn't care if she hated him like none other. So long as she was safe and out of Dirie's hands, she could hate him as much as she wanted.

Sighing, and resigning himself to a state of intense inner fury, he stood from his seat and pushed open the door. He was nodded through by the bouncer, and, scanning the bar, noted where the others were seated. He raised an eyebrow when he spotted the Spades. He hadn't expected to see them here. He could see Kirkland sitting in a booth over on the other side, obviously talking to someone. He gritted his teeth. Dirie was here. He couldn't see her face, but he could see a hint of dark hair. He forced down his anger and walked over to where Elizabeta, Matthew and Gilbert were seated. They all looked surprised at his presence, but Gilbert shuffled over silently so that Vash could drag a stool over and join them.

They all seemed on edge, and Vash followed Elizabeta's gaze over to where the Spades were seated. Matthew leaned forward.

"They look like they're gonna be trouble." The rebel muttered. Vash hummed.

"What did they order?" he asked. Elizabeta blinked, but Matthew looked oddly satisfied.

"Bloody marys. Why, does that mean something?"

"Of course it does. Most drinks here have a hidden meaning." He said. "It's all about intentions." He tapped the half-finished screwdrivers that they had ordered. "This lets old Miris the owner know what you're here for." In sync, the three looked down at the glasses.

"And what do screwdrivers mean?" Gilbert asked. Vash shrugged with one shoulder.

"It means that you're here with someone else. Another party that, by all appearances, you aren't associated with. It's essentially code for 'I'm not here to start shit, but I will if necessary'." Matthew nodded thoughfully, then inclined his head towards the Spades.

"And bloody marys?" he asked. Vash examined the gang of thugs for a moment before responding.

"It means that they're here to kill someone." He said. "Did they say anything else?" Matthew and Elizabeta bit their lips, but Gilbert answered immediately.

"They asked about what was new-"

"Code for anyone important in the bar."

"And the guy seemed pretty reluctant to tell them-"

"Obviously. He's friends with half of the pirates and assassins who come through here." As if on cue, Miris, lingering behind the bar, which had it's forcefield activated, locked eyes with him. Vash gave him a brief nod and tapped at one of the screwdrivers meaningfully. Miris nodded and turned away.

"He mentioned a few in particular." Gilbert said, sounding a little annoyed at getting interrupted continuously. Vash raised an eyebrow.

"Very specific types of alcohol are usually code for specific people." He explained. "Do you remember what they said?"

"The bartender mentioned…fuck, what was it…" Matthew snapped his fingers as he remembered, "Nymian bourbon, Blackjack rum and Pyndaphian gin, I think." Vash nodded.

"Okay. That's just Miris letting them know who's in the building. Did they say anything after he told them?"

"He said he might have some of the gin later." Gilbert supplied. Vash cursed sharply. Matthew's eyebrows rose in alarm.

"I take it that that isn't good." Elizabeta lamented. Vash shook his head.

"Yeah. Pyndaphian gin is what Miris calls Kirkland." He jerked his head at the table of Spades. "And he ordered a blood mary right after asking this?" they all nodded. He shook his head, glad that he had chosen to come inside after all. "That's a message. He's intending to go kill Arthur."

"Fuck." Matthew muttered. Vash nodded.

"Yeah, fuck. If Kirkland has closed his deal with Dirie already, then he should get back to his ship." Vash moved to stand. "One of us needs to warn him." No later than the words had come out his mouth, the leader of the Spades got to his feet, and, sticking his hands casually in his pockets, he began to stroll over to the pirates, crew trailing behind him.

 _"Fuck."_ Matthew groaned.

* * *

 _2:02pm_

Arthur heard the scrape of chairs as the leader of the Spades got to his feet, and he swirled his vodka tonic absently. Barkhado and Jack had been drilling Alfred about their relationship when he had slipped back into the booth, as he had expected from the both of them. He had been gone longer than he had intended, but neither of them had seemed to notice. Arthur had been quick to throw back more of his drink to disguise the scent of vomit on his breath.

As he had watched Barkhado continue to talk to Alfred, Jack had leaned in his direction and warned him about the Spades and, more specifically, what their drink order had been. That had made him raise an eyebrow. He wasn't well acquainted with the Spades, but he knew that they enjoyed increasing their own infamy by killing people who had earned a high-profile in the criminal world. It seemed rather lazy, to him. They weren't working for their notoriety, or even contributing to the criminal underworld. If anything, they were stalling business by trying to take out major players like pirates and assassins. An annoyance, really.

He had hashed out the last details of his deal with Barkhado, and felt relief flood his system as she wrote down all of the details and promised to get back to him as soon as she had secured the slave's identity. Not long after they had all relaxed back into their chairs and started to talk more casually, the Spades approached them.

Arthur glanced over at them briefly, eyes sliding sideways to the bar. Miris had activated his forcefield. He clearly knew that the Spades were looking for trouble. A closer examination of the bartop, however, revealed that the bartender had also propped the weapon he owned known simply as the 'splicer'. No-one was entirely sure where it had come from, or how it had been made. All that anyone knew was that, if shot with it, it killed you slowly and extremely painfully, and given that Miris was a sharpshooter and one of the quickest draws in the Galaxy, no-one wanted to clash with it.

"Captain Kirkland." The man leading the group said, mouth curving into a grin composed of yellowed teeth. Arthur made a face that he hid partially with his drink. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I would just like to–"

"I know what you want." Arthur snapped. "Bloody marys. And an interest in gin." He tilted his head back and examined the man. "If you're that determined to get rid of me, I dare you to try."

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you." The man said, still grinning, eyes now glinting malevolently. "You have no idea the sort of people I've been able to kill."

"Well, if I have no idea who they are, then they musn't be too impressive." Arthur said dryly. "And, I will warn you, you've never fought _me_ , before." He downed the last of his drink, swirling the melting ice around in it for a moment. "Alfred, go and stand by the bar with Miris. This is going to get very messy in a second." Alfred hesitated, looking very reluctant to leave his side. Arthur gave him a look that said _trust me on this_. It was sweet of Alfred to be concerned, but he had never seen Arthur really, _really_ fight before. Sparring on Nyma didn't count. Alfred hesitated a moment longer, but did as he said.

He heard Barkhado and Jack get to their feet behind him. The man eyed them, still smiling in that same, unsettling manner.

"We aren't after you two." The man sneered. "At least, not today."

"You indeed aren't," Jack said cheerfully, "but you are interrupting our conversation, which I consider the height of rudeness." Jack's friendly exterior fell away, and his smile hardened into the frightening expression that he was known for. Jack, Arthur's friend, was gone for now. Kelly the pirate was here. Barkhado was smiling too. She jerked her head at Jack.

"What he said." she said cheerily. "Fucking with my friends constitutes fucking with me."

Arthur pulled one of his knives from the interior pockets of his coat, examining the sharp edge briefly before returning his gaze to the band of thugs. Two of them stepped forward, grinning cruelly. Arthur raised an eyebrow and carefully picked up the glass that he had been drinking from. He swirled it for a moment.

"Alright then," he sighed, "let's get this over with." And without a word, or even the slightest sign of warning, Arthur lunged.

The two men who had approached him, for all their arrogance, were not properly trained. Arthur didn't have brute strength on his side, and especially not now with his condition, but what he had always possessed was speed. People attributed Arthur's success to his cunning, and his stealth, and a million other factors, but the simple truth was that Arthur fucking Kirkland was extremely fast.

Before the two closest to him could take more than a step, he shattered his glass with blinding force on one's face, and pivoted before plunging his knife hilt-deep into the eye-socket of the other. He ripped it free as blood gushed violently from the man's decimated eye, and spun back to the first man, who was dazed and bleeding heavily but still very much so alive. A flash of silver lanced across his vision, and blood was flooding from his throat as he crumpled to the ground. Arthur stepped over them calmly, not bothering to clean away the blood on his knives and coat. It really was luck that he had chosen to wear his red coat today.

Some of the Spades lingering near the back looked stunned and he grinned ferally at him. Let it never be said that he had gone down without a fight. He heard Barkhado cackle madly.

"Ohhh, that's the Artie I know and love!" she exclaimed before throwing herself at the man nearest to her and burying two knives in his sternum. Jack grinned cockily and also leapt into action. Another man ran at Arthur, fist swinging around rapidly. He ducked and slammed his knee into the man's stomach. A glance into his peripheral vision revealed that their table was covered with shattered glass. He seized the man by his hair and slammed his face onto the broken glass, ignoring the sharp cracking noises that rang through the air as he did so. He released his hair and jumped over him, darting up the stairs so that he could be on equal footing to the rest of the Spades.

Three others lunged at him; one crumpled when Arthur slashed his throat open; another fell to the ground, eyes wide in panic after he ducked down and tore his knife through the man's Achilles tendon; the third staggered away in pain and shock, gagging and choking after Arthur plunged his knife directly into the side of his neck. He could hear Barkhado and Jack attacking the other Spades with glee behind him, and he ducked through the madness and violence up to near the main parlour. A loud bang rang through the air, as he felt a bullet graze his temple. Momentarily stunned, Arthur staggered as someone seized him around the neck from behind. He saw a flash of metal; a knife headed straight for him, undoubtedly, and let his entire body go limp.

Unprepared for the sudden weight change, the man holding him slackened his grip, and he twisted away, slamming his foot into the guy's knee until it bent in sickeningly. Breathing heavily, Arthur drew another knife, so that he had one in each hand. The leader of the gang was marching towards him, blood dripping from his temple and a savagely displeased look on his face. Arthur grinned, raising his knives in anticipation, eager to cut the bastard into countless little pieces.

The Spades' leader was a much better fighter than most of the rest of his gang. Arthur found himself ducking and dodging far more. But even this guy wasn't too hard an opponent. He felt the guy's gnarled, blood-soaked nails rake their way across his scalp as he ducked, leaving the skin stinging and feeling raw. Arthur slashed upwards with both knives, catching the asshole in the arm.

He stumbled backwards, pressing his feet against the bar and using it to propel himself at the man. For all his pompous airs and confidence, the guy really wasn't too good a fighter, especially considering that he was trying to take on some of the most talented criminals in the Galaxy. Arthur slammed his head into the ground, snapping his jaw sharply, before also crushing the man's face beneath his boot. His nose caved inwards, crunching as blood ran down his opponent's face and he moaned pitifully.

His now badly injured foe was reaching for his knife when an unbelievably loud shout echoed out through the bar.

"EVERYONE, STOP!"

Arthur was so surprised that he actually went still. That was Miris' voice. Miris never shouted. He turned to look at the bar. The owner of the Red Pike had emerged from his forcefield-protected area, clutching his 'splicer' in his hands, expression hard and authoritative. Arthur's mind raced. Miris only ever got this angry if one of his rules was broken. Murder and fighting were allowed and expected, so he wasn't sure why the Metteoan man was so indignant.

Arthur did pay any debts if he caused damage here, and he was yet to leave any bodies inside this bar. Since they were still fighting, it was unlikely to be either of those. There was no drink-buying going on, so he hadn't violated that custom…

His stomach sank as a small flash of pain rippled across his scalp, where the Spades' leader had raked his nails along. Given that the man had access to his scalp…he reached a tentative hand up. His beanie was gone, and his grey, Chalydrantis-ridden hair was on full display. Arthur examined his hands. He had removed his gloves at some point earlier, probably a result of feeling too comfortable with his old friends and forgetting himself. His darkened fingernails were visible too.

Miris stalked past him and grabbed the Spades members, shoving them in the direction of the door. "Get the fuck out. You violate the rules of this bar, you eat the dirt outside. That is the one thing I will stand by. You fucking bastards violated the rules. Get out. I don't want to see you on this property ever again." Barkhado and Jack had their eyes on Miris, both looking puzzled but not displeased with the turn of events. They hadn't seen him yet.

A part of Arthur wanted to desperately locate his beanie among the carnage and chaos on the parlour floor, but the rest of him didn't know why he was even considering it. What would the point be? The other patrons of the bar had already seen him, and some were openly gawking. Considering how many eyes and ears both Barkhado and Jack had planted around, even if he somehow escaped their notice right now, they would receive the news within days.

Since he had no real avenue out of this, he might as well enjoy it. He felt a sudden, unbidden rush of affection for Miris and his Metteoan customs. He really didn't appreciate the bartender as much as he should. He smiled a little wryly, looking down at the man whose nose he was still crushing under his boot. He laughed a little at the situation. This really wasn't how he had imagined this meeting with Barkhado going. He watched Miris shove the injured and disgruntled men out of the door, grin widening when he saw that Miris was making them take their own dead with them. That would save him some heavy lifting later.

Arthur stepped off the gang's ringleader, looking down at his destroyed face for a moment before leaning down to talk to him.

"If you ever come after me, or Dirie, or Kelly again, I'll make sure that all that's left of you is a bloody smear." He hissed, straightening up and marching away from the man as his disgruntled and confused subordinates stumbled over to pick him up and take him with them. Barkhado and Jack were still looking at Miris, not him. He sighed. Well, he had to rip the bandaid off at some point. Miris looked over at him, and grimaced.

"And here I was thinking that terminal illnesses didn't have their perks." Arthur said, wiping his bloodied hands on the lapels of his coat as he approached them. They both turned around, and finally caught sight of his grey hair. Jack's eyes widened in horror, and he took a step back as he raked his gaze up and down, eyes catching on his dark nails. Barkhado's face shifted, expression changing from open to closed as all emotion seemed to suddenly lock itself away.

"You…" Jack trailed off, expression crumpling from shock into sadness as he registered Arthur's appearance, and what exactly it meant. Arthur made a non-committal noise, raking his hands through his grey hair as he smiled ruefully.

"Yeah, I know." He turned to Miris. "Thank you, by the way." Miris shook his head.

"It is customary to defend the ill." Miris said, tone soft. "I knew you were looking thin." Arthur smiled, mouth razor-sharp.

"I've always been thin, Miris." He retorted, rubbing at a sore spot on his jaw. Barkhado's eyes were cast downwards, toward the ground.

"Aren't grey hair and dark nails indicators of lethal levels of Chalydrantis toxins?" she asked quietly, tone obviously struggling to stay neutral. Arthur shrugged.

"For most people, yes. I'm not dead yet, though, and I doubt I will be for a while." Arthur gestured at their half-destroyed booth. There was blood splattered around the seats and table, and broken glass and splintered wood from the furniture scattered around. He brushed off the spot he had been sitting in and collapsed back into the seat. "It's a very long story." Barkhado raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure it is." She eyed him. "This is why you've been absent the last few months?"

Arthur shrugged again. "Not really. I've had this for 5 years." Jack's jaw went slack and Barkhado stared at him. "I've just had a lot of strange run-ins since Fybwari."

Jack looked astonished, and ready to ask a million questions, when the same member of his crew from earlier, Daniel, if Arthur remembered right, stepped through the door of the Red Pike. The man blinked in surprise but stepped towards his captain anyway.

"Captain Kelly, we've registered federal ships in the area. They belong to Kirtik." Jack hesitated a long moment, eyes still glued incredulously on Arthur, before he turned and acknowledged his subordinate.

"Are you sure that they're Kirtik's?" he asked. Daniel nodded. Jack cursed, pressing a hand to his forehead. Kirtik was a name that the pirate had mentioned earlier. It was the name of the federal agent assigned to bringing Kelly to justice. Apparently, the guy was relentless and ruthless. They all knew what that meant; if Kirtik was approaching, Jack had to leave.

Arthur's old friend bit his lip, shaking his head slightly. He raised his head again, stepped forward and pulled Arthur into a crushing hug. He spoke to Barkhado as he did it.

"You tell me everything that he says, okay?" he said, voice shaking a little. He drew away just enough that Arthur could see his face. "Stay alive, alright? I wanna see you properly again after this. Don't let me get some notice from some stranger that you've gone and kicked it." Jack's gaze flickered uncertainly up to Arthur's grey hair again before he released him. Turning to the side, he jabbed a finger at Alfred, who Arthur realised was still standing by the bar. "Take care of him." Alfred nodded. Jack maintained eye contact for a long moment, then broke it, nodded firmly at Barkhado, then darted out of the bar, following his subordinate. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind him. Arthur stared at it for a moment before turning to look at Barkhado, who had sunk down to sit on the seats as well.

"So ever since I've known you…" she trailed off, clasping her hands together, "the entire _fucking_ time that I've known you…you've been slowly dying?" Arthur tilted his head to the side as he also sat back down.

"Essentially." Barkhado stared at him.

"Are you going to die soon?" her voice didn't crack, but it got quieter the more she spoke. Arthur sighed.

"I don't think so. I'm not taking malthecs. I found someone willing to give me an alternative treatment that works better if I did jobs for them."

"And _that_ is where you've been since Fybwari?" she asked, he nodded. Barkhado made a small humming noise.

"I see." She pulled the papers he had given her from her pocket. "I'll try and fast-track this, if it's for this 'friend' who's providing this treatment." He nodded slowly.

"I would appreciate that a lot, thank you." He murmured. Silence fell between them. A part of him felt like he should apologise for not telling her, but it wasn't in line with his personality to do that. They just weren't the type of people who apologised to each other.

He heard footsteps behind him, and when he turned, he saw Vash standing there. His expression wasn't as harsh and angry as it had been this morning, but he didn't look pleased either.

"If you're done with big revelations," Vash muttered, "I'd like to have a word with you, Dirie."

Barkhado smiled hollowly. "I'm sure you do, Zwingli. Let me guess, your sister?"

Vash's expression didn't change. Barkhado laughed bitterly. "You're about five minutes too late. I offloaded all of my cargo, including prisoners, on Kelly so I could avoid the feds." She pointed out the window; where Jack's ship had been just previously, there was now only an empty space. "He just left."

Vash's hand moved to his belt, where he undoubtedly had a gun. Dirie's hand twitched towards her own weapons. As Vash's hand curled around the holster for his gun, a thin hand snaked out of nowhere and caught hold of the assassin's wrist.

"Before you shoot her, Vash, I'd like to ask her something." Arthur blinked in outright shock. A young man, who, at closer examination Arthur realised was in actuality only a teenager, had appeared at the Pyndaphian's side. He blinked in surprise as he took in the teen's bedraggled appearance. The somewhat grungy clothes were a staple on the anchorage, but his appearance was unusual.

He had light olive skin, round, golden eyes and, poking out from under a dark wool cap, was vibrant red hair. Arthur felt a shock go through his system. The kid was Syhvvanian. Arthur had seen Syhvvanian people before, obviously, at the rebel headquarters on Nyma, but he had never seen any outside of the rebel camps. It was bizarre to see someone of that ethnicity in such a mundane setting. The boy had his eyes fixed on Barkhado Dirie. Vash, who had looked around at the boy, seemed to be frozen in shock and, if Arthur was not mistaken, recognition.

"You took part in the Three Days' Reign on Rela last month." The boy stated. "Did you capture a Syhvvanian man at any time?" Barkhado looked initially like she didn't want to answer, but, obviously physically and emotionally worn out, she caved.

"One Syhvvanian. About 20 years old, darker skin and hair than you, constantly looks angry." The boy nodded. Barkhado sighed. "Let me guess, kidnapped…" she examined him, trailing off, "…brother?" The boy tilted his head to the side slightly.

"Spot on." He said. Barkhado grunted.

"Yeah. Kelly has him, too." She sighed. "Go annoy him if you want the guy back." The teen stared her down, nodding slowly.

"Alright then." He said, tone heavy. Vash seemed to be recovering from his shock.

"Wait, Fel-"

The teen pressed his hand over Vash's mouth, sending a level stare at him before dropping his hand, turning on his heel and marching out of the bar, leaving stunned and confused silence behind him.


	27. What Do You Have to Lose?

**I'm back! Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter! It had probably the only fight scene I'm actually kinda proud of, so I'm glad you all enjoyed seeing badass Arthur! Also, I'm kinda proud of me! CTM is, as of this chapter, officially longer than HTS! Oh boy, I can only imagine how huge this will be when it's finally finished, rip.**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- The meeting at the Red Pike happened. Barkhado agreed to help find the slave the resistance is after.**  
 **\- After having a brief fight with a group of thugs, Arthur's condition was revealed to Barkhado, Jack Kelly and the rest of the bar.**  
 **\- Barkhado gave all of her cargo to Jack to avoid the cops. Both Lovino and Lili are now on his ship. Feliciano entered the bar, found out Lovino was gone and left.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- The usual bad language**  
 **\- A flashback scene, a scene of someone having a panic attack**  
 **\- References to rape, murder and snuff (don't google that if you don't know what it is)**

* * *

 _Ruma Non 'Red Pike' Anchorage,  
About 350,000 km from Cyrassa,  
20th Juillat_

 _2:40pm_

Feliciano emerged onto the street, breath coming fast and heavy in his chest. Inkar, who had been surveilling the activity inside the bar from through a cracked window, bolted over to him, expression a myriad of confusion, concern and bewilderment. His heart was racing wildly, thundering in his chest as he felt his lungs tighten and constrict. He couldn't hear what Inkar was saying to him. It was only when she leant down next to him that he realised he had slid down to his knees. His whole body felt weak, like every last dreg of strength that he had was leaking from him.

His hands were shaking, and he struggled to draw in another breath, to fend off the crushing sensation descending on his chest. He felt like he was dying. He could vaguely hear Inkar trying to speak to him. Her small, cool hands closed over one of his own and placed it on her chest.

"…come on now, Feli. Breathe in time with me, okay?" still shaking and struggling to comprehend what was going on, he couldn't do anything but obey. He forced his breathing to align with hers as she inhaled for four beats, held it for seven and then exhaled for eight. Slowly, he felt awareness bleed back as his breathing finally evened out and his heart started to slow to its normal pace. Inkar looked concerned, frowning at him in a very maternal way. The expression made him ache for a mother, something he had never really known, and he pulled his hand away from her chest, rubbing at his face and trying to remain calm.

"You had a panic attack." Inkar said, voice soft and soothing. "Feli, are you okay?"

Feliciano dragged in another breath. He shook his head. Inkar was silent. She clearly didn't know what to expect.

"He's not here. She doesn't have him. She did, but she gave him to another pirate. Said pirate just left the anchorage." He folded his arms over his head and tucked his chin in, so it was pressed against his chest. "He's not here, he's not here, he's not here…"

"Hey, hey, hey now." She said, obviously worried that he would panic again. "Just concentrate on breathing for now, okay?"

He nodded, still shaking violently, and focused on keeping the rhythm Inkar had set. Inhale for four seconds, hold it for seven and exhale for eight. He focused on nothing but breathing for a few more moments until the blind panic started to disperse. The moment that he had calmed down, though, despair kicked in. His brother wasn't here. He was in the clutches of another pirate and, if Dirie was to be believed, he had missed the opportunity to get him back by mere minutes.

He buried his face in his hands, desperately trying to hold back tears. Shaking his head, Feliciano hurled himself to his feet, unwilling to sit here idly anymore. Inkar looked a little alarmed by that, extending an arm to steady him when the world blurred and pitched dangerously. He took in a few more deep breaths, waiting until his vision had cleared to turn on his heel and walk the other way down the anchorage. He heard Inkar hesitate for a moment before following him.

His brother wasn't here, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

* * *

 _2:41pm_

Matthew blinked, eyes sweeping the parlour of the bar in shock. In just under ten minutes, the tone of the place had shifted from casual, to violent, to shocked and confused, and now seemed to be edging back into casual territory. Matthew generally considered himself a person who could adapt quickly, but the events of the afternoon made him feel like he had just been given whiplash.

The area of the parlour where Arthur and the other pirates had been sitting was drenched in blood, and broken glass was scattered around. The walls had bullet holes and gouge marks from knives, and much of the furniture in the immediate vicinity had been overturned. Regardless of the violent scene in front of him, no-one seemed too bothered. The bar-owner, Miris, had deactivated the forcefield around the bar itself, and put away the interesting weapon that he had threatened the Spades with. The aging Metteoan man had pulled out a broom and started sweeping up glass and wood splinters, looking completely unbothered.

Barkhado Dirie had moved to sit on one of the few pieces of furniture that was still completely intact, fingers drumming ceaselessly as her gaze flickered from Arthur – and more specifically, his damningly grey hair – to Vash, who seemed to have been frozen in shock for the last few minutes. Judging by his behaviour, he had known the teenager who had spoken to Dirie very briefly, and looked completely astonished that the kid had been there.

Arthur stifled a yawn behind one of his hands. "Well, if that's all we have to handle, I would like to find something to eat. Killing really does get exhausting sometimes." Arthur's words seemed to snap Vash out of his trance, and the assassin's expression hardened as he turned to look at Dirie once more.

"What F- _that kid_ said, is it true? You kidnapped his brother?" Dirie sighed, looking at Vash with an irritated expression.

"God, you are on a lot of self-righteous bullshit, aren't you? Yes, I did, but that doesn't fucking concern you, now does it? Guy was running around in the streets during the Three Days Reign. If you're stupid enough to do that, then getting caught is a reasonable punishment." Vash gritted his teeth.

"Do you ever think about the implications of your actions? Ever?" Dirie started laughing.

"Oh, you're joking, right? I'm getting lessons in morality from an _assassin?_ I suggest you can it, Zwingli. You're just as bad as I am, if not worse. Don't take the high and mighty road because you have a personal grudge." Dirie turned away from him and back to Arthur. "I have a few more meetings to attend before I get going, unfortunately. I'd suggest you go and rest. A tough bastard you might be, but you look ready to drop dead, regardless of what you've been saying." She clapped him on the shoulder, hand lingering for a moment before she removed it. "Ditto to what Jack said. Stay alive." Arthur nodded, smiling shrewdly.

Without another word on the matter, Dirie got to her feet, dusted glass and blood off her coat, nodded to Arthur and Alfred, hurled an unimpressed look at Vash and marched out the door, leaving a void of silence behind her. Gilbert, standing next to Matthew, blinked in surprise as Arthur righted a chair that had been knocked over and sat down. "That was eventful." The albino murmured. Matthew nodded, making eye contact.

"You're telling me," he muttered, "And here I was thinking this would be a pretty easy mission."

Elizabeta, noting the bar-owner's efforts to clean, moved hesitantly towards the zone of destruction and started righting furniture. The man, Miris, nodded at her gratefully and continued to diligently sweep up the glass. Silence reigned for another long moment before Vash shook his head, and turned on his heel and moved to leave the bar.

"Where are you going, Vash?" Elizabeta asked, tone weary. "Picking a fight with Dirie won't accomplish anything." Vash barked out a short, harsh laugh.

"I'm not after Dirie, for fuck's sake. I'm going after that kid." Elizabeta sighed, getting to her feet, having set every piece of distressed furniture back on its feet.

"Why? I get that you must know him, but we had a job to do and we've done it. We need to leave." Vash gritted his teeth.

"Not until we talk to him, at least." The assassin ground out. Elizabeta was shaking her head before he had even finished speaking.

"No, okay, we have to go." Vash spun around, marching back over to Elizabeta. Her stance shifted into something more defensive, ready to block a blow should one come. The assassin stopped very close to her, and Matthew's hand wrapped around the holster of his pistol, poised and ready to shoot if necessary. He would rather not add more blood to the walls of his bar, but to defend Elizabeta, he would do so without hesitation.

"Since apparently Yao doesn't trust even you to know this, then fine, I'll indulge you." The assassin muttered. He lowered his face so that they were incredibly close, expression twisted in distaste. "That kid is to Syhvvanian people what Tori would be to you. _That_ is why we need to find him." Elizabeta blinked, looking confused for a moment before her expression cleared and she frowned.

"But…if that's the case, why didn't Yao say…" Vash scoffed and straightened up, waving off her confusion.

"It doesn't matter. We need to find him before someone less friendly does, or it could spell disaster for a whole planet." Vash shot a dark look in the direction that Dirie had vanished. "If he's to be believed, his older brother is already in the hands of pirates." Elizabeta blinked, looking like she was having trouble processing the information as Vash turned on his heel and marched back over to the door. "I'm going to find him. You can all do as you like."

Arthur, still seated on one of the damaged chairs, sighed as they all watched Vash storm outside. "And here I was thinking that I was finally going to be able to get a good sleep for once." He forced himself to his feet and wiped the last remaining streaks of blood on his hands onto his coat. "Well, if we're going on a grand manhunt around the anchorage, I might as well join in." the pirate examined his beanie for a moment then shrugged, shoved it back into his pocket, obviously not bothering to maintain the secret of his condition, and followed Vash.

Matthew sighed, dropping his hand from his gun and jerking his head towards the doorway. "Yeah, why not. Let's go."

* * *

 _2:45pm  
Onboard the SS Racketeer_

Lovino glared up at the foreign pirate sneering down at them all. Liliana was whimpering in fear and pressing her face into his elbow. He placed a comforting arm on her shoulder and, on his other side, Eladina cocked her head at the snarling man and gave him a wicked smile.

"Come on now, we aren't that bad, sir." The fiery Jhobrasian girl teased. "You don't need to look like someone pissed in your cereal." The pirate leered at her, yellowed teeth on full display.

"Shut your mouth, whore." He snapped. "As of now, you're all under the jurisdiction of Captain Jack Kelly, and I'm expecting you to shut the fuck up and listen." Lovino gritted his teeth but jabbed Eladina warningly when she looked ready to open her mouth and say something else snarky. She frowned, looking irritated when she glanced over at Lovino, but she stayed silent. The pirate's face twisted itself into a grin that was somehow even more unsettling than the snarl, and began to speak.

"There are a few rules that y'all need to abide by while you're here on our ship. First of all, keep your yammering to a minimum. You all get one shower every three days, so don't go wasting that time. You'll be fed twice a day. As we travel, some of you will be systematically auctioned off. We're gonna be coming over the next week to make price estimates for each of you. If you're found outside the cells, you'll be given to the cruellest owners that we now." The pirate grinned at that. "Our first stop is the Mini Kata auction ring. The less desirable among you will be shipped out there. Enjoy your stay." He said the last sentence with a tone designed to mock and insult. Without saying another word, the pirate slammed the door shut, and Lovino's heart sunk as he heard multiple bolts slide into place on the other side.

The events of the morning had been confusing. They had been roused from sleep and, to everyone's shock and confusion, shuttled out of Barkhado Dirie's ship and onto a long, metal walkway after being shackled together. The experience had brought to mind the slaves that Lovino and Feliciano had sighted back when they were on Incanda. It was never a position that Lovino had thought he would find himself in.

After that, they'd been shoved into a new ship, which apparently belonged to Jack Kelly, which was unfortunately another outlaw name that Lovino recognised. One of their fellow prisoners had explained that they had all been on-sold. Kelly was going to sell them either to auction rings or individual buyers. The very thought made Lovino nauseous. Everyone from the pirate crews that he had interacted with so far had made observations about his appearance, and how attractive he was. It was making him dread the next few weeks. After all, there were only a few functions for a pretty face in the slaving industry.

The only thing he was truly worried of was being sold to a snuffer. Snuffers were the perverted fucks who bought slaves just to rape and kill them for their own sexual pleasure. Lovino could endure being a slave. He could endure violence. He could endure being sexually assaulted, but being killed by someone else for sheer pleasure was something that sent ice flooding through his veins. It was every slave's nightmare, particularly for bondspeople or sex slaves. They were the ones usually subjected to such treatment, after all.

Lost in his thoughts, he followed Eladina and Lili to a separate corner of the large cell block. His brain vaguely registered that the two were frowning at him and exchanging worried looks.

"Are you okay?" Lili asked, her soft and concerned voice breaking him from his nervous reverie. He started slightly, but then registered the question and nodded, breathing a little shakily.

"Yeah…I'm okay." He murmured, pressing his forehead to the cold steel and trying to force his heart to slow it's rapid, frightened beat. "Just a little worried." He felt Lili's thin, warm fingers on his arm.

"At least we're all still together." She said. "I'd be worse if we were alone, right?" Lovino forced a smile to his face and nodded.

"Yeah, that's very true. At least we're all still together."

He slid into a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes. He could feel Eladina's concerned gaze on him.

"Anything in particular that's worrying you?" the frizzy-haired girl asked. He sighed.

"Just worried about who might want to buy me." He murmured. "People…like unusual things…and sometimes those same people have more than one unusual taste." Eladina nodded.

"So, you're worried about the snuffers, eh? Yeah, that's a relatable fear." She murmured. Liliana frowned in mild confusion.

"…Snuffers?" she asked in confusion.

"Nothing you need to know about." Lovino and Eladina both said in perfect unison. Lili blinked in surprise, but nodded and settled down against the wall a little. Lovino and Eladina exchanged a look, and both smiled a little. He forced his concerns away. He would worry about who was going to buy him when the day actually came. For now, he had a spunky teenager and an innocent girl to worry about.

* * *

 _The Red Pike Anchorage  
4:11pm_

"I'm gonna be the first one to say it, since none of the rest of you have the courage. This is fucking pointless." Gilbert groaned as they trudged up one of the Pike's long metal walkways for the fourth time that afternoon. Matthew sighed, and Alfred made a face, but neither of them refuted his claims.

He sighed, wishing that there were at least rocks on the walkways that he could kick irritably. They had all been looking for over an hour, but so far the Syhvvanian teen, who, by Vash's indications, was _royalty_ – yeah, that was a fucking curveball if Gil had ever seen one – had remained elusive. They'd seen neither bright red hair or grungy hide of him since the encounter at the bar, and considering how populated the anchorage was, Gilbert was quickly losing hope that they would ever find the kid.

"I mean, he could be moving around, and we're coincidentally missing him every time?" Matthew said, voice full of tired optimism. Gilbert looked over at him.

"Matthew, I love your positive outlook, I really do, but I doubt that that is what's happening here. This isn't a cartoon, sadly."

Matthew sighed. "Yeah, that's a good point."

After Vash and Arthur had gone darting out of the Pike, Gilbert, Elizabeta, Matthew and Alfred had been quick to follow them. They had calmed the stormy Vash down and decided to sweep the anchorage for any sign of the kid. Vash, Elizabeta and Arthur had gone in one direction, and Gilbert, Matthew and Alfred had gone in the other. Gilbert had wondered briefly if they would cover more ground as pairs, but he wasn't in charge, so it had been groups of three.

Alfred seemed a little disappointed that he hadn't been able to go with Arthur and had also thrown an uncomfortable look between Gilbert and Matthew that indicated that he might not want to spend time with the two of them together. It made Gilbert a little uncomfortable, too, so he had been trying to obnoxiously fill the air between them all with constant chatter. He seemed to be grating on Matthew's nerves a little, so he had shut up. He regretted that decision, however, since the air was now just thick with awkwardness.

He sighed. Things would be fine if it were just him and Alfred, or him and Matthew, or even just Alfred and Matthew. The dynamic of the three of them, however, was a little weird. Gilbert pulled the communicator that Elizabeta had given him out of his pocket. He typed out a quick message, confirming that they hadn't found anything yet, and put it away after Elizabeta responded with similar news.

"The others haven't found anything yet, either." He sighed. "Guys, I honestly don't think that we're going to find this kid." Matthew sighed, running a hand through his fair hair.

"You're probably right, but we need to keep looking. If this kid is who Vash is insinuating he is, we can't leave until we've exhausted all opportunities." Gilbert sighed.

"Yeah, I suppose so, but do you really think we're gonna be able to track down one Syhvvanian kid on a whole anchorage of people?" Matthew shrugged.

"I don't know, but there's no chance of it being possible if we don't bother trying, right?" Gilbert nodded at that, scuffing the toe of his shoe on the metal floor.

"Well in that case, we'd better keep moving." Alfred piped up. "The kid could be anywhere by now."

* * *

 _4:55pm_

"I hate to say it, but we are well and truly at a dead end." Inkar murmured, shooting Feliciano a saddened look. "We maybe have enough money to get off the anchorage and back to Rela, if we find someone willing to slash their rates by a great deal, but beyond that, I don't know what we're going to do."

Feliciano hunched in on himself even more. Upon returning to the shabby apartment that they had rented until the 22nd, he had gone straight to his cramped single bed and curled up on it in despair while Inkar had tried to lift his spirits. Even his Zephyrak companion seemed to have given up now, though. She wasn't wrong, either. They really didn't have many options now.

Feliciano shook his head slightly and tucked his arms more tightly around his middle. He felt nauseous every time he brought Dirie's words to mind again.

 _"Yeah. Kelly has him, too. Go annoy him if you want the guy back."_

Jack Kelly was another infamous pirate, and considering that, like Dirie, he travelled fast and light and, unlike Dirie, didn't advertise when and where he was going to stop, it would be near impossible to catch up with him. And even if they did manage to accomplish that impossible feat, how would Feliciano even get his brother back? He would have to sneak on board a pirate ship, which more than likely would have ended with him being captured and enslaved, too.

He really hadn't thought this through. He was so absorbed in getting his brother back that he had somehow forgotten to consider the finer details. Finer details had always been Lovino's specialty, though. Feliciano blinked rapidly, fighting tears. Crying wouldn't help him now. He needed to consider their next move.

He forced himself into a sitting position and rubbed at his face with his hands, breathing in deeply a few times and considering their options.

First and foremost, they needed to get off the anchorage. The destination didn't matter if they couldn't even leave the Red Pike. They could use their limited money to buy passage, but considering that they were unsure of their next move, giving up what funds they had left didn't seem like a smart decision. Given Inkar's ability to pass through solid objects, it would be possible for them to sneak onboard a ship and stowaway, though they would have to be rather careful in doing so.

They could look around the anchorage and see what ships were going where if they needed to. They could try and follow Kelly, but at this point, it seemed smarter, at least to Feliciano, to return to Rela and collect more supplies before pursuing the pirates. Hopefully, the Citadel wouldn't mind providing them with even more assistance than they already had.

He voiced these ideas to Inkar, who nodded and hummed thoughtfully.

"Those are all valid options." She murmured. "But…I was wondering about that man you saw in the bar. He seemed to recognise you." Feliciano sighed.

"He was one of my neighbours back on Rela." He murmured. "My older brother was closer friends with him than I was." Inkar shrugged.

"It might be worth talking to him, at least." She suggested. "He might be able to help us."

Feliciano huffed out a short laugh. " _Us_. Inkar, why are you still here?"

Inkar levelled a look at him. "I promised to help you get your brother back. I don't see him sitting here, hmm?" Feliciano stayed silent. "The debt I owe to you hasn't been repaid yet. That's why I'm still here."

Silence filled the air after she spoke. The Zephyrak sighed quietly. "Let's try and talk to this neighbour of yours, yeah?" Her voice was gentle and coaxing, and Feliciano found himself nodding despite himself.

"Okay, let's talk to him."

* * *

 _5:36pm_

Vash ran his hands through his tangled blond hair, suppressing the groan that threatened to break free. They had been scouring the anchorage for hours now, but there was still no sign of Feliciano. Vash could feel the small amount of hope that he had that they would find the young Syhvvanian rapidly dwindling. He swept the area again, brow furrowing into a frown when he found no sign of vibrant red hair or warm golden eyes.

Seeing Feliciano at the bar had sent a shock through him. He hadn't seen the teen in about four and a half months, having been preoccupied on Nyma as he was, and the Red Pike was the last place he had expected to see the exuberant youngster. It would have felt less out of place if, say, it was _Lovino_ who Vash had run into, but, if Feliciano was to be believed, Lovino had been snatched up by pirates.

Vash stopped, running a hand along his brow. If he had only been on Rela, then he could have helped the brothers in some way. He didn't know exactly why Lovino and Feliciano had been running around the streets of Rela during the Three Days Reign – they definitely seemed smarter than that – nor why they had started a fire in their apartment that destroyed half the floor, but he was sure that they would have good reason to do so. Now all he had to do was find Feliciano.

He had devoted far more of his thoughts to the brothers over the last few months than he probably should have. The appearance of Lukas Bondevik at the rebel base had stirred up the memories he had of the day of the Expansion. He had been 16 at the time, and hadn't been overly involved in politics, but he had known enough to understand how much was going to change.

* * *

 _City of Geni'a, Pyndaph  
Jaune 10th, 4501CC  
(11 years ago)_

 _He yawned, sniffing suspiciously at the milk he'd stowed in the fridge. He was staying with his friend Kato for the time being, and while Kato had many talents, maintaining and consuming food before it's use by date was not one of them. Observing that the numbers printed on the side advised the milk was almost a fortnight out of date, he huffed and dumped the whole carton into the trash, deciding to take his coffee black. He'd gotten more and more of a taste for plain coffee since moving in with Kato._

 _"Morning Vash!" his roommate said, tone loud and excited as he entered the kitchen. Vash blinked. He still wasn't quite used to the name yet, but he knew that letting himself go by his birth-name was stupid and misguided. He would just have to adjust. He murmured out a responding greeting as he sipped at his coffee. Kato pouted as he opened the fridge. "Aww man, where's my milk?"_

 _"It was two weeks out of date, Kato." Vash mumbled. "You'll get food poisoning one day, I swear." Kato shrugged, still grinning, and poured himself a mug of the black coffee Vash had prepared. His roommate wrinkled his nose but didn't comment on it, shuffling past Vash to turn on the television._

 _Vash picked up the newspaper from yesterday that was lying on the kitchen counter, looking over the mindless stories that the 'journalists' had decided to run for that issue. He was shaking his head dismally over a story of one girl's 'prom disaster' when he heard Kato yell from the living room._

 _"Vash! Holy shit, get in here right now!"_

 _Vash almost dropped his mug in surprise. He had never heard Kato sound so shocked or frightened. He hurried into the living room, not sure of what to expect, only to be greeted by the sight of Kato seated on the couch, mouth agape, staring at the television. He pointed at it numbly. "Fucking_ look _at this." Vash shuffled closer, eyes widening as he registered the running headline on the bottom of the page._

 _BREAKING: UNION IGNITES HOSTILITIES WITH DAERNA, SYHVVA, FYNKN_

 _He blinked in shock as his gaze drifted upwards to the footage being shown on screen._

 _"Hostilities…" he murmured. "…those aren't 'hostilities' that's a fucking invasion."_

 _"Right?" Kato mumbled, still staring at the screen in shock. "Happened last night."_

 _Vash took a seat on the couch next to him. "How are their royal families responding?"_

 _Kato was silent for a moment. "They…well, they aren't. Some people think they're minimising the threat to keep civilians calm but…" he trailed for a moment, "…other people think that something bad might have happened to them. The Union did target their capitals first, after all."_

 _"That's brutal." Vash murmured, eyes glued to the screen. Kato's phone started to ring, and he picked it up, answering in clipped Reycausian. Kato's face paled, and he nodded, mumbling out a response before hanging up._

 _"My sister works at one of the investigative journalism places on Rela, so they're getting all of the news first." Vash looked over at him, curiosity piqued._

 _"And?" he queried. Kato made a face._

 _"The royals? The adults, anyway? All dead save for that grandpa on Syhvva." Vash jerked in shock, coffee spilling from his cup and onto the floor as he gawked at Kato._

 _"You're shitting me…" he murmured. "All of them?"_

 _"There's no news on the kids, but the rest, Gabija, Augustinas, Oskar, Astrid…confirmed dead." Kato jerked a finger at the screen. "Most of my sis's colleagues are calling this an annexation." Vash numbly turned to face the television again, watching as more and more horrific footage unfolded in front of their eyes._

* * *

Vash shook himself free of his reverie, forcing the old memories into the back of his mind as he continued to move, searching the crowds for the friendly teen that he knew.

He was ready to finally give up and circle back to find the others when one figure in the crowd caught his eye. It was a young woman, with caramel skin and long, dark hair. She was standing against the wall of a crumbling building. She had her eyes fixed on him, eyebrow cocked inquisitively. Her gaze didn't feel malicious, but he still lifted a hand to the comm in his ear and radioed in the others.

 _"Did you find something?_ " Elizabeta's crackly voice said. Vash watched the woman as she lifted her arm slightly, and shifted it backwards. He felt his eyes widen as it passed right through the wall behind her – right through solid concrete. Vash had lived on Rela for five years. He knew what a Zephyrak was. He pressed his comm again. "I don't know, but I've definitely found something." He gave them all his location and waited; eyes locked with the woman leaning against the wall.

Not even a few moments later, Elizabeta and Arthur appeared right by Vash's side. He pointed the woman out and they both scrutinised her. The woman, still watching them, smiled slightly and lifted her hand in greeting. He felt Elizabeta nudge his arm.

"The others are still about ten minutes away. Let's talk to her while she's here. They can trace us via the tracker I put on you, anyway." Elizabeta suggested. Arthur nodded in agreement, and they approached the woman. Her smile grew as they got closer, but before they were within talking distance, she turned on her heel and stepped into the building – directly through the wall, of course. Elizabeta swore while Arthur's eyebrows rose exponentially up his forehead.

"Well, you don't see that every day." The Daernic girl muttered, still blinking in surprise. Arthur pointed down an alleyway adjacent to the building the Zephyrak had stepped into. There was a door leading into the building.

"Shall we?" the pirate asked. Vash drew in a deep breath and darted down the alleyway, Elizabeta and Arthur on his heels. The door was unlocked when they tried the handle, and the three of them stepped inside. The building was just as dark and decrepit inside as it was out. There were holes in the ceiling that provided some meagre light from outside, and there was dirt and debris scattered around the floor. The Zephyrak was leaning against a rotting post that looked to once have been a railing for a grand staircase. She looked over at them curiously.

"I'm flattered that I'm interesting enough to attract the attention of all three of you." She cocked her head to the side. "Didn't you have more people with you?" when none of them answered, she sighed. "I'll be a lot more inclined to trust you if you just speak honestly."

"There are three others coming." Elizabeta said. "Vash here seems to think that there's something interesting about you."

"Well obviously. I was explicitly trying to get your attention." She said. Vash narrowed his eyes.

"You're a long way from Rela, Zephyrak." He muttered. She raised an eyebrow.

"As are you, assassin." She said coolly. A moment of silence passed, before the woman sighed. "As much fun as I'm having messing around with them, I feel like we should actually get to the bottom of the issue." She didn't direct this statement at them, and Vash frowned in bewilderment for a moment before someone sitting on the remnants of the stairs, until then hidden by the Zephyrak, spoke up.

"Yeah, I suppose so." A face peeked out from behind the woman's legs, and Vash felt relief flood his system when he realised it was Feliciano. "Hi Vash."

"Hey." He said, gaze flickering between the Syhvvanian and the woman. "Who's your new friend?"

"I'm Inkar." She said. "A Zephyrak, as you so astutely observed." Vash frowned at her as Feliciano stepped out from behind her, dusting some dirt off his bedraggled clothing. The teen looked uncertain, like he wasn't sure what to say next. Vash decided to get down to business, lest they be stuck in this dark, worn down building forever.

"Did Dirie really take your brother?" Vash asked, trying to make his tone a little less harsh than it normally was. Feliciano's face contorted in pain for a moment. That was all the explanation that Vash needed as he felt his burning hatred of the pirate increase. He gritted his teeth and pushed the feelings aside for now.

"Where have you been for the last four months?" Feliciano asked, eyes trained on Vash. He sighed.

"I've been preoccupied. I got caught up in someone else's business and couldn't get out of it." he muttered, sending Elizabeta a shrewd look. She rolled her eyes at that as he turned to face Feliciano and Inkar again. "I assume you came here to bargain with Dirie?"

"That was the plan, yes." He muttered. "She sold my brother off to another pirate, though, as you heard." Vash nodded. Elizabeta cleared her throat.

"I don't mean to interrupt this little conversation but," she looked at Feliciano intently, "Vash here made some suggestions about your identity, and I'm very interested to see if those are true." The small amount of openness in Feliciano's expression vanished frighteningly quickly, and he turned to Vash, expression accusing.

"What did you tell them?" he asked, taking a step back. Vash hesitated, throwing a glare at Elizabeta.

"Barely anything." He insisted. "I was trying to find you and get them to help me do that." Feliciano didn't look convinced, his frown deepening as he took another step back.

"I don't know what you're thinking, Vash, but you'd better not say it to anyone else." Feliciano looked over at Elizabeta and Arthur. Vash frowned.

"I'm more observant that you're giving me credit for. It isn't my fault that you and your brother weren't that subtle-" Where he had been retreating a moment ago, now Feliciano was stepping forward, expression changing from fear and apprehension to budding anger.

"So that's the only reason you wanted to find me, then?" he said, tone flat and disappointed. "I get it, really. It is a lot of money." Vash shook his head as Elizabeta stepped forwards.

"Listen, I don't know about Vash, but I came to find you because he indicated that you might be…well, special. I'm not here for money!" she insisted as Feliciano became even more defensive. "Listen. Look at me. Do I look like the sort of person who loves the Union?" Feliciano hesitated, observing her. He blinked in shock.

"You're Daernic…" he murmured. She nodded.

"I am. I'm part of the resistance, okay? You have every right to not trust me, but that is the truth." Feliciano looked torn, gaze flickering between Elizabeta and Vash uncertainly.

"…The resistance?" he said, sounding a little hopeful. Elizabeta nodded. Vash scowled at her. Catching this movement, Feliciano spoke again. "If you're part of the resistance, then why is Vash with you?"

"It's a bit of a long story, but essentially, I got captured by a group of pirates led by this snappy bastard here," she indicated Arthur, who nodded, looking unfazed, "who then leant some help to a big group of bounty hunters when their ship broke down. My friends came after me and after getting me back, also kidnapped some of the pirates and bounty hunters I was with. They then sought out Vash here," she pointed at him, "who was meant to help them get to the rebel headquarters and negotiate for their friends' release. We had a brief change of leadership when that happened – another long story, I'll explain later – but they all got imprisoned instead. Our leader was going to set them free, but they became aware of a very important person we had at our camp. We didn't trust them to be free with that information, so they've all been our prisoners for the last three months. We had to make a deal with Dirie, and since Vash had connections with her, we brought him with us."

Feliciano blinked in surprise at Elizabeta's extended explanation. The Daernic woman winced. "Now that I think about it, that wasn't a very brief summary. Sorry about that." Feliciano bit his lip.

"I would like to trust you, I really would, but how am I supposed to know whether you're telling the truth or not?" Inkar, from her place behind Feliciano, straightened up.

"A person's heartbeat speeds up when they lie." She stated. She eyed Elizabeta. "Come here, and repeat your story when I say. This might feel weird, but we'll know if you're lying or not." Looking a little confused, Elizabeta approached her. Inkar promptly raised her hand and shoved it into Elizabeta's chest, near where her heart was. It looked like she had punched a hole right through the rebel's chest, even though Vash knew she was just using her ability to pass through solid objects. At Inkar's signal, Elizabeta repeated the explanation she had provided Feliciano.

Inkar hummed when she was done and pulled her hand from Elizabeta's chest. "She's telling the truth." Elizabeta rubbed at where the Zephyrak's hand had been inside her chest, looking mildly disturbed. His gaze slid across to Arthur.

"And what about him?" he asked. Elizabeta sighed.

"He was our prisoner too, but we brokered a deal with him, so he technically works for us now." Arthur shrugged.

"Not a bad deal, in all honesty." He commented. Feliciano frowned.

"Why would a pirate make a deal with the resistance?" Arthur grinned, jabbing a finger at his grey hair.

"Oh, I'm dying, so I'm getting medical treatment in exchange for using my talents."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Feliciano said, eyes wide with horror and voice thick with sincerity. Arthur blinked in surprise, but shook his head slightly with a smile on his face.

"It's okay, but thanks." He said. Feliciano nodded. Elizabeta straightened up, pulling a Cell out of her bag.

"I have more evidence if you want it." she said. Vash realised that she was typing her own name into the Index, and nodded, slightly impressed at her quick thinking. She squinted at the screen. "Does anyone have a light?" Feliciano raised a hand, and Vash felt the air leave his lungs in a rush as flames burst to life, curling and twisting along the lengths of his fingers and palm. Elizabeta was motionless for a second, gawking at his hand before handing over the Cell. Feliciano took it in his unlit hand, examining the screen for a moment before nodding.

"Okay, so you are part of the resistance." He murmured as he handed it back. "You want me to go with you?" Elizabeta nodded as she put the Cell away.

"Well, yes. Obviously, I'm not going to force you into anything, but I would be very happy if you chose to come with us. If you have other options, though, choose what you want to do." Feliciano bit his lip, extinguishing the flames in his hand and plunging the room back into relative darkness.

"Not really." He murmured. "I…I don't really have anywhere else to go." Elizabeta's face crumpled in pity.

"I know that the resistance might not be your first option, for many reasons." She said. "And I know that you probably want nothing more than to find your brother, so if you don't want to come with us, I'll understand. But, Feliciano, if you do, we can help you out, and a lot at that, too. I can't promise that we'll be able to find your brother, but we have enough ships and willing volunteers to try." Feliciano let out a shuddering breath, wrapping his arms around himself. He glanced over at his shoulder at Inkar, who inclined her head ever so slightly.

"Alright." He breathed out after a long moment. "Alright, I'll come with you." Elizabeta blinked, nodding as a warm smile crossed her face.

"Okay. Thank you." She murmured. She shifted her gaze from Feliciano to Inkar. "May I assume that you're coming, too?" Inkar nodded.

"Where he goes, I go, for now at least, so yes." The Zephyrak confirmed. Elizabeta nodded. She pressed a hand to her comm.

"Matthew? Find our ship. We're gonna have two extra passengers." She turned back to them. "I'm going to do my best to make sure that you don't regret this, Feliciano." The Syhvvanian teen nodded.

"Me too." He murmured.

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
21st Juillat_

Matthias let out a low whistle as he examined the numerous weapons on the walls. He had finally gotten around to visiting the armoury like Captain Thomassen had suggested, and he was rather impressed. As one of the professional smiths had informed him, Fynkn was known for it's well-made traditional weapons like knives and swords. Since guns could be hard to come by in some areas, and they were also rendered useless whenever ammunition ran out, the resistance had fallen back on also using more traditional weapons to fight. As someone who had only ever really used guns and knives in the past, it was interesting to see how many variations in the weapons there were.

His grin widened as he looked at the sheer badass nature of some of them. He scooped a spiked mace off the wall, eyebrows raised in admiration as he turned it over. The smith who had been talking to him earlier, Einar, approached him. The man was on the short side but might as well have been a brick wall for how solidly he was built. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Einar had spent a lot of his life doing heavy lifting and physical work required in a smith. Matthias turned to him, indicating the mace still in his hands.

"People actually use these?" Einar grinned, lighting the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, sucking in a lungful of smoke and exhaling before replying.

"Not so much in the guerrilla squads, since they can be a little bothersome to carry around. In general combat, though, yeah, people do get them. They're not very common weapons to use, though, and they get very messy. Unless you wanna shred your enemies like paper, I'd recommend something else."

Matthias hummed and placed it back on the shelf, approaching a table laden with knives and daggers. He examined some of them as he walked around, humming in approval as he did so. Einar grunted. "Those are heshani steel, from up near the Hrinnskél settlements. They make damn good knives. Very durable and not prone to rusting. We use the same steel in alloys for other weapons, too. Works best in small quantities, though, otherwise the weapons can get too heavy." Matthias nodded, placing the knife he had been examining back down on the table. Einar yawned and puffed more smoke out of his mouth. "So, do you have any idea of what sort of weapon you'd like?"

Matthias made a face, raking his gaze around the room before pivoting to face Einar. "Honestly, I don't know. I've primarily used guns and knives in the past, though, if that helps at all." Einar hummed, examining him.

"Guns and knives, eh? Well, you look like a pretty strong fella. Plenty tall." The man scratched at his chin for a moment. "Have you ever considered using something more heavy-duty?"

Matthias blinked uncertainly. "Heavy-duty?"

"You know, bigger, stronger. You look like you'd be able to swing a bigger weapon around pretty decently. It'd give you an edge, that's for sure. You gotta play to your talents here, I've found." The man hummed, before marching over to a rack of weapons and picking one up. "Here, try this one." He tossed it at Matthias, who by sheer dumb luck caught it by the handle and not the sharp, spiked end. He examined it and swung it experimentally. He made a face.

"Uhh, no, too light." Einar hummed, taking the weapon from him and placing it on a scale, making a note of how much it weighed before returning the weapon to its place and picking up another one. Matthias' arms buckled slightly when he caught the next one thrown at him. He could lift it, but not as easily as he would want to be able to. Einar laughed heartily at his facial expression and took it from him effortlessly.

"That one's too heavy for almost everyone who comes in here." He grinned. "You were able to hold it, so that's a good sign." The man weighed that weapon as well, then hummed. "Looks like a weapon for you would ideally be between 4 to 8 kilograms. A strong fella indeed." Matthias was surprised by that. He could lift a decent amount of weight easily enough, but swinging around a weapon that weighed that much just _sounded_ exhausting. Einar looked deep in thought for a moment before a broad grin stretched across his face. "Oh, I know."

The Fynknian darted into the back walls of the armoury and emerged with a large case that looked to be about 150 centimetres long. Matthias raised an eyebrow. Einar looked delighted. "This weapon was designed and created by a late friend of mine, from the Hrinnskél colonies up north. It's made of heshani steel, so it is pretty heavy. Too much so for most people. I've been trying to find someone who might be able to wield it for a few years now. It's a lot less dangerous to carry around than maces, and definitely easier to use than a polearm."

Einar unwrapped the case, pulling the weapon free, and Matthias normally wasn't one to obsess over weapons like some of his friends did with guns, but he would be lying if he said that he didn't fall a little in love when Einar handed it over. It was a huge, double-headed battle axe with a red wood handle. It was about a metre and a half tall, with gleaming blades and leather grips. Small Fynknian runes had been inscribed into the blades themselves. Einar stood back, looking proud.

"It was old Mikka's magnum opus, in his own opinion. I would have expected him to keep it, but all he wanted was for someone to use it in battle. Go on, pick it up and give it a swing." Matthias complied, and felt a wicked grin cross his face as he lifted it. It felt well-balanced in his hands, and the shine of candlelight off the blades was only raising his excitement. Einar went on proudly. "Like I said, blades are heshani steel. Handle is red snakewood from near Oslaholm. Weighs about five kilograms. Wingspan of the blades, if you don't mind me appropriating the term, is about 60 centimetres. It's beast of a weapon, eh?"

Matthias nodded silently, still gawking at the axe. Einar grinned, then clapped him on the shoulder. "Keep it. Kill a few Union scum with it, yeah? For me and Mikka both." Matthias looked up at him, brow furrowing slightly.

"Are you sure? I mean, if it belonged to your friend…" Einar laughed.

"It looks like it was _made_ for you, kid. Keep it." The man grinned as Matthias stammered out his thanks. "You're coming to a fight that isn't yours, you deserve to get thanked in some way." Matthias felt his stomach twist guiltily when he heard that, but nodded, keeping his gaze on the weapon he had just been given.

"Thank you, really." He said earnestly. Einar waved it off, smiling.

"You better get going, now. Got a lot to do before you go off with those guerrilla squads, I bet." Matthias nodded somewhat numbly. Einar clapped him on the shoulder and retreated to the back of his armoury. Still numb and staring giddily at the axe, Matthias exited the armoury, shutting the door firmly behind him as cold air slashed its way across his exposed, unprotected face. He flinched slightly at the sudden temperature change. Rubbing at his face, which was already going numb, he had taken no more than a few steps into the thick snow before he heard someone calling his name.

"Matthias! Slow down, you tall fuck!" raising an eyebrow at that, he turned and grinned when he saw Riya stumbling through the thick powder a few metres behind him. After a minute of staggering and cursing, she drew level with him, her gaze immediately drifting to the axe on his shoulder. "Holy shit, is that your new weapon?" she inquired. He hoisted it off his shoulder, nodding with a grin as Riya stepped closer to admire it. "Damn, that's niiice." She said.

"I know right?" he said, grin widening. "I can't wait to actually use it." Riya barked out a laugh as he slung it back over his shoulder and they started to move towards the barracks, with Matthias slowing his pace considerably so he could walk beside her.

"You'll cause a lot of damage with that thing." She said. "Wish I could be there to witness it." Matthias' smile dampened a little, but Riya didn't look too bothered. "I got to meet my new crewmates earlier, by the way. Interesting bunch." He looked over at her.

"Anyone who can off-set Kors?" he asked curiously. Riya laughed again.

"Yeah, one guy named Rino Talget. Quietest thing in the galaxy. They seem like a reasonable group." She looked over at him. "When are you and Lukas meeting your teammates?"

"Oh, tomorrow, apparently. I'm kinda excited, actually." She nodded.

"Nice. You and Lukas are lucky that you're in the same squad." Matthias really should have known what was coming, from the growing smirk on Riya's face, and he groaned at her next words. "You lovebirds have a good time without me."

"Honestly, Riya, Lukas and I are _not_ a thing, and we never will be. The guy's a piece of shit no matter how many times you insinuate that we're dating." Riya cackled.

"Oh, Matthias. I'm a very intuitive person, so when I get a vibe from certain people, I tend to be right. And you guys are giving me a Vibe with a capital V." Matthias rolled his eyes.

"Sure we are." Riya was still grinning.

"Alright then, I'll make a bet with you." She said, coming to a stop in front of him. "The next time we see each other, after missions with our squads that is, I'll bet you that you're already into him. If I'm right, you have to give me twenty kroën. If I'm wrong, I'll give you twenty kroën." Matthias groaned.

"For real?" he said. Riya nodded.

"100%. So, are we on or not?" Matthias really didn't understand why Riya had such a fascination with him and Lukas, but let it never be said that he backed down from an easy opportunity to make money. He stuck his hand out, and Riya shook it, grinning.

"Fine. You're on. Get ready to lose twenty kroën." Riya grinned.

"Oh, I'm sure I will, Matthias. I'm _sure_ I will."


	28. Welcome to the Team

**And I'm back again with another update! Do be aware that updates might not come as freely in the next few months because I have uni (rip) and I gotta focus on my studies, sadly! I've also been really getting into some other stories I've wanted to write for a while, so that's been fun as well. Huge apologies to everyone who reviewed who didn't get a response last week! I was so busy moving into college that I ran out of time to answer all of your lovely reviews! Ahh please forgive me :'(**

 **RECAP:  
\- After the madness at the Red Pike, the squad tracked down Feliciano and Inkar, and convinced them to come to the resistance, promising to try and rescue Lovino when they're able to.  
\- Matthias got his famous axe from the armoury and also made a bet with Riya that there is no way he's gonna fall for Lukas. Our homeboy gonna be losing money in the future.**

 **WARNINGS:  
\- Discussions about mental illness and references to dubcon. All in all, this is a mild chapter, actually**

* * *

 _Blå Ren Insurgent Training Camp,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
22nd Juillat_

Lukas inclined his head slightly at his reflection as he tugged absentmindedly at the sleeves of his white parka-style jacket. He had been imbibed with gear over the last few days, but he found that he was especially fond of the jacket. It pointed him out immediately as a member of a guerrilla squad. He wriggled his toes, laced up in his Venkater boots as they were, and fiddled with the shiny, silvery dog tags Captain Malin had given him.

He made a face at his appearance. His clothes were fine; a grey thermal shirt, black pants, his boots and a black scarf, but his face looked _wrecked_. Any hopes he had that being accepted into a guerrilla squad would alleviate his anxiety and nightmares had been voided in the last few days. He'd woken shaking and nauseous again, and though he hadn't felt sick enough to actually vomit, he hadn't been able to get back to sleep again. The dark bags under his eyes reflected that fact very visibly. He sighed. He could hardly hide them, but he did hope that his new squad-mates, whom he, Matthias and Sigurd were set to meet today, didn't take too much notice.

After running his hands through his hair in a vain attempt to tame it somewhat, Lukas gave up worrying about his appearance and stalked out of the bathroom and checking that he had his things properly packed up. Captain Malin had sought out he and Matthias last night while they were playing cards with Riya to inform them that some of the squads' assignments had been fast-tracked. They would leave tonight. Riya, luckily, got to stay and relax another few days. The Captain had stressed that they were deliberately leaving at night to avoid detection, and that the whole squad would get briefed much later.

Despite how unpleasant training had been at times – never mind his endless nightmares and sleepless nights – Lukas knew he would miss Blå Ren. It had made for a good introduction to what he had to expect on Fynkn, not to mention he had befriended Riya here. Even Sergeant Kolden had ended up not being so bad after all. Even though most of his other fellow trainees hadn't made too much of an impression on Lukas, he hoped to see some of them again. Ansel had been a pleasant bunkmate, and even some of the Block A trainees didn't seem so audacious anymore. Weeks out in the wilds of Fynkn would probably even make him miss the hard mattresses and dirty communal bathrooms.

Lukas had gone to the armoury two days ago to find a non-artillery weapon that he could take with him. Even though he had more experience with knives because they could be easily concealed and had also been rather simple to steal when he was younger, he had walked out with a sword. Sigurd Janvik, who had been walking in as he had been walking out, had complimented it with a grin. At the very least, the one other member of his squad that he had already met seemed nice so far.

In addition to the sword, he had also been given other supplies like a standard issue rifle with a good amount of ammunition, two daggers, a multi-tool knife, bedroll, compass and some other things like a metal water bottle and some long-lasting rations. They were going to be given more when they met up with their squad, of course, but Lukas was happy with what he had so far. He was closing up the half-full pack when the door to the barracks swung open and Matthias walked in, grinning widely. His gaze zoomed in on Lukas.

"Oh, there you are! Sigurd says we're going to meet our new squad-mates now. Thomassen told him that we're meeting over in that same cabin place we met in a few days ago." Lukas nodded as Matthias jerked his head towards the door. "So, shall we?" Lukas sighed, but nodded and followed him out. His eyes strayed over to the weapon he could see strapped to Matthias' back.

"Is that the weapon Einar gave you?" he inquired. The tall blond had mentioned it in passing yesterday, but Lukas hadn't actually gotten to see it until now. Matthias grinned and nodded.

"Yup! Never really used an axe before but I'm sure I'll manage." Lukas raised an eyebrow at it.

"It's rather large. It looks heavy." He observed Matthias shrugged.

"Well I'm also large and heavy." He winked cheerfully at Lukas. "Guess it's meant to be." Lukas rolled his eyes as they approached the cabin. Sigurd was lingering outside, shooting nervous looks at the door. He relaxed when he saw Matthias and Lukas approaching.

"Oh, thank goodness," he said, sounding relieved, "I didn't want to go inside alone." Matthias showed no such hesitation, bounding past Sigurd and swinging the door open. Lukas and Sigurd exchanged a look before following him inside. Captain Malin was leaning against the table in the middle of the room, and she looked up, smiling slightly as they entered and shut the door behind them. There were five other people sitting around the table behind her.

"Ah, you're all here. Good. Now," she straightened up, brushing melting snow from the front of her jacket, "time for introductions." She cleared her throat and turned to the five people already assembled there. "Team, these are our new recruits." She introduced Lukas, Matthias and Sigurd all to the group, who nodded and greeted the three of them. Malin nodded in satisfaction, then turned to face them. "Now, to do the opposite."

Malin beckoned with her fingers and one of the group stood up. Lukas immediately recognised her as the girl who had been hanging out by Malin's side during the fight tournament, and also the same girl who had told him who he was fighting for one of the rounds. He observed her more closely. She was a few inches shorter than him, with tanned skin, freckles splashed across her nose and starkly white hair cut into a short bob. Her left ear had about six piercings, and he could see another in her tongue as she licked at her chapped lips briefly.

"This is Corporal Ros Viktorsen. She's my second-in-command and the person you should go to if you have any questions. In addition to my second, she's also our primary navigator, and handles communication between us and base." The girl, Ros, waved cheerfully at Lukas. He returned the gesture reluctantly.

"Nice to meet you all." She said, dipping her head a little. "Like Malin said, I can answer essentially any questions you might have, and I'm a mad conversationalist, so don't worry if you need to come and bug me about something." Malin nodded as Ros stepped back and sat down again.

"Thanks, Ros." She gestured to the person sitting next to Ros, who also clambered to their feet. "This is Hans Aakovik. He's our resident grenadier, which essentially means that he handles the more heavy-hitting artillery and ballistics." Lukas observed him. Hans was tall, with very dark grey hair styled in a crewcut and black eyes. The man shrugged.

"Being grenadier essentially means that I blow shit up." Hans said casually. Sigurd blinked in minor alarm, while Matthias grinned, looking delighted that that was a job one could have. Hans noted his enthusiasm and smiled shrewdly. Lukas frowned slightly. He didn't get the best vibe from Hans, purely from first impressions, but he tried to push the odd feeling down a little. As Hans sat down, Malin gestured to the next person.

"This is Nina Jensen. She's our sniper and rearguard." The girl smiled widely and waved excitedly at them. She probably had normal white or silver hair like most Fynknians, but Lukas couldn't tell because, as of now, it was dyed dark purple. She had large, pretty brown eyes and a heart-shaped face. The bulk of her jacket didn't do anything to disguise her hourglass figure, and Lukas tried not to snort at the slight blush that dusted Sigurd's cheeks. Nina didn't seem to notice.

"Yup! I'm squad E's sniper, so you can rest assured that I'll be watching your backs from afar if we ever run into trouble." She smiled at them, so genuinely warm that Lukas felt himself relax infinitesimally. "It's nice to meet you all!" Malin smiled at Nina as she sat down. Hans immediately reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist when she did, and the purple-haired girl threw him a sickeningly sweet look. Lukas rolled his eyes good-naturedly, shifting his attention to the last two squad members.

Malin hummed. "I think it would be easier to just introduce you two at the same time, I think." She murmured. One of them sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, we know. We're twins." Malin shook her head but didn't dispute that fact as the two stood. Lukas observed them, feeling his stomach turn inexplicably as he did so. They were both women, and though claiming to be twins, they were definitely fraternal twins, not identical. The woman on the left was shorter than her sister, with white hair that hung in thick waves halfway down her back. Her eyes were a very dark shade of blue; they almost looked black like Hans'. She looked to be on the shy side, with a gentle, wary smile as she pushed her mouth down into the folds of the scarf around her neck.

Her sister looked similar. She was maybe an inch or so taller, and had slightly darker hair, which almost seemed to have an odd, teal tint to it, that had been pulled into a high ponytail. She had the same, stunningly dark eyes as her sister, and freckles scattered haphazardly across her face. She seemed a little more confident, examining Lukas and the others with as much interest as he was examining her.

"This is Birgitte and Faena Lindholm." Malin said, smiling a little wearily when Sigurd, still standing next to Lukas, gasped slightly. Lukas had to force his mouth into neutrality to stop it from turning down in displeasure. That made sense.

"Wait, Lindholm as in-?"

The taller girl with the teal-ish hair smiled. "Yes, Lindholm as in related but just barely to the royal family. I'm Faena, by the way." She gestured to the shorter, shier girl. "This is Birgitte. Kindly don't get us mixed up. We aren't identical, so you should hopefully manage." Sigurd was still staring at them, looking mildly starstruck. Matthias just looked confused.

"I'm a little lost here." He cocked his head and looked at Faena. "Who are you?" Faena smiled.

"My sister and I are second-cousins to the royal family. My parents were cousins to King Oskar, if that makes more sense. Do you remember Anga, who cleared you to come train in the first place?" Matthias nodded. "Yeah, she's our aunt, too." Sigurd jumped into the conversation, looking fascinated.

"So, wait, can you guys do anything similar to the _lahjöf?"_ he asked, almost vibrating with excitement. Faena shrugged.

"Well, yes, Birgitte and I are unusual. Normally, unless you're part of the direct line, abilities fade after a generation or two, but where our parents gained no manifestations of royal power, we somehow did. We don't have both, obviously. Only true royalty have that. My sister has a significantly weakened version of the _Vesi_ , so she can control water, while I have a rudimentary strain of the _Sjeltanker_. I can communicate telepathically and do a few other things, but I can't dive right into people's minds like my second cousins would be able to." Sigurd nodded, mouth hanging open slightly. Hans sighed.

"And here I was hoping that we'd meet a group that didn't obsess over Faena and Birgitte for once." He lamented. "Oh well, two out of three ain't bad." Faena hummed, gaze sliding over to Lukas.

"It does tend to enchant Fynknian people a lot, since they actually know who we are." She raised an eyebrow at him. "At least, for most people it does." Lukas shrugged.

"I lived in Oslaholm when I was younger." He said. "I've had more exposure, I guess." Faena nodded.

"Ahh, fair enough. I was going to say, nice job in the fights last week." She said. Lukas inclined his head in acknowledgement. Malin cleared her throat and they all fell silent, looking her way.

"Now that introductions are over and done with, I would like to outline a few things to our new recruits." She eyed them. "Every person in a squad has a partner, as I've already made clear. Some of us are already partnered up. Hans and Nina are partnered, as are Birgitte and Faena." She eyed them again. "Sigurd, you partner up with Ros. Lukas and Matthias, you can be partners." They nodded. "As I told you a few days ago, pairs share tents. Again, do what with your sleeping time what you will, but our rest hours are limited." She turned and gave a pointed look at Hans and Nina. "I'm done trying to get the message through to you two, so I will ask that you at least position your tent a decent distance away." Nina giggled and Hans gave an arrogant grin, tightening his grip on Nina's waist.

Malin rolled her eyes and turned back to them. "The tents should, ideally, be carried in turns by each person, unless one of you is willing to carry it every day. It's up to you." She brushed one braided segment of her hair behind her ear before continuing. "Now, we are leaving this evening. Our mission has been fast-tracked, so we'll need to get on the road as quickly as possible. I realise this is sudden, but you will need to adapt to constantly being on the move." They all nodded. "I'll be explaining our mission when we set up camp tonight. For now, I would recommend that you return to your barracks and pack up the rest of your gear. I would love to see you all mingle and get to know one another better, but we are leaving tonight, so time is limited. You can bond on the road. All right, you're dismissed."

Lukas nodded to himself as she said that. He blinked in surprise when he got a bright smile and comforting pat on the shoulder from Ros as she moved past him. The others filed out, exchanging a few words as they did. After a minute or so, it was just Lukas and Matthias still within the room. He heard Matthias hum in satisfaction.

"Well, they seem like a reasonable bunch." The Rywanese man said. Lukas nodded.

"They're certainly interesting." Matthias nodded, before ducking his head down a little and lowering his voice. Lukas had to stop himself from starting in surprise when Matthias spoke into his ear.

"I was going to ask, those second cousins of yours, are they going to be a problem at all?" Lukas shook his head, fighting the small shiver that ran up his spine at the sensation of breath on his neck.

"Even if Faena does have some mental power, she wouldn't be able to dive too deep into my mind, thankfully. Her own capabilities are far smaller than mine, so even if she did find something, I could always make her forget." Matthias nodded.

"Alright, that's good." He said. There was a beat of silence before the bounty hunter grinned and straightened up. "So, I guess we have to share a tent, then. Here's to hoping that we're both still alive by the end of the week." Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Here's to hoping that you don't roll on top of me and suffocate me in your sleep." Lukas snarked back. Matthias cackled.

"Oh, what a way for you to go out. That would be splendid."

"Uh huh." Lukas said, rolling his eyes again. "You're carrying the tent, by the way." Matthias spluttered in indignation.

"What? Why do I have to carry it?" he asked. Lukas raised an eyebrow and gave him a coy look.

"Because it's your job to protect me while we're here, right?" Matthias blinked, clearly not understanding. Lukas suppressed the small smile threatening to break loose and continued. "Well, since Yao didn't specify, I can only assume that 'protecting' can be extended to include common grievances." He looked at the blond. "If you carry it, then you're certainly 'protecting' me from backpain."

Ignoring the indignant squawking that Matthias emitted in light of that statement, Lukas ducked out the door and down the stairs, pulling his scarf up around his face so that no-one could see the amusement on his face.

* * *

Matthias shivered a little in the cold air. As good as these thick, white parka jackets were, he still couldn't quite adjust to the cold. This planet was ridiculously freezing. He understood that it was an arctic planet for a reason, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. Being from Rywan, he was used to the cold, but this was on a whole other level. Ivaana really would love it here, he thought. She always used to complain that it never got cold enough on Rywan during the winter. At the very least, Matthias now knew what sort of winter his baby sister was wanting.

He'd have to bring her here at some point, maybe when all of the fighting died down. Hopefully, he was still alive by that time. He didn't think he would enjoy anything more than watching her face light up at seeing her home again. He had never seen Ivaana as anything but a true sister, but he knew that she had felt somewhat isolated from them at times. His parents had never tried to lie and tell her they were biologically related; Matthias and his parents had fair skin and blond hair while Ivaana had olive skin and brown hair, it simply wouldn't have worked.

For all of their efforts to accommodate her Fynknian heritage while simultaneously making it known that she was a member of their family, Matthias knew that Ivaana was curious about the people who shared her blood and culture. Fynkn was such a unique planet, and it's people were just as individual, that he understood his sister might have sometimes felt alienated. Saints, he missed her so much. Ivaana was a bright, innocent soul that interrupted the morally grey characters he normally spent time with. She never ceased to be able to make him smile. Really, even before he had been imprisoned by the resistance, it had been far too long since he'd seen her and his parents.

 _Once this is all over, I'll go pay them a visit_. He thought firmly, making a promise both to them and to himself to do so. Sighing, he forced his attention back to the present. He would see his family again, he was sure, but he had a job to do before that could happen. It was strange, in all honesty. Matthias had been remembering that this was a 'job' less and less over the last few weeks. Actually, getting along with Lukas and befriending Riya probably had something to do with that. He didn't hate every moment that he was on this planet anymore, so he felt less like being here was a burden on him.

He surveyed the area. His new teammates were milling around and talking casually to some soldiers from other guerrilla squads who he assumed they must have been friends with. Malin was talking to a very intimidated-looking subordinate, who was nodding excessively and looking keen to get out from under her stern look.

Matthias was just preparing himself to start dragging his gear onto his back when he heard his name being called out. Turning, he grinned when he spotted Lukas and Riya trudging up the small incline towards him. Lukas had all of his gear slung on his back, but Riya, obviously, did not, given that her squad wasn't leaving for another two days.

He dropped his pack back into the snow, chuckling as Riya staggered up to him and jumped a little pathetically, arms extended for a hug. Grinning widely, he wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her whole body up, swinging her around as she laughed.

"Ahh, I'm gonna miss you two." Riya said when he finally set her back down on her feet. She frowned gently, expression still fond. "It really is a shame that we weren't all assigned to the same squad, yeah?" Matthias and Lukas nodded in agreement. Riya shrugged. "Well, I guess we don't always get what we want." She turned and hugged Lukas, too, as Matthias smiled sadly. He'd honestly had a really good time at Blå Ren with these two. Of course, he was going to still be stuck around Lukas, but he was legitimately sad to be seeing Riya go.

"Stay alive out there." Matthias said, gently punching her shoulder. "I refuse to not hear more morbid jokes from you." Riya smiled, and nodded vigorously.

"I'll do my best. The same goes for you two." She said, nodding again as she blinked rapidly. "You guys are my friends, and I expect the three of us to go out and have a drink some time." Matthias realised with a shock that Riya was fighting back tears, which, naturally, made him tear up too.

He made an incomprehensible sound in the back of his throat before lunging forward and dragging both Riya and a somewhat miffed Lukas into a hug. He released them both after he felt Lukas wriggling in discomfort.

"Okay, okay, that's enough of that." Lukas said as he freed himself. Matthias was expecting a disgruntled look, but the Fynknian, surprisingly, didn't look overly bothered. Riya rolled her eyes good naturedly and elbowed the two of them.

"Good luck out there. It's a mad, mad, world." She said. Smiling, Matthias nodded. Lukas picked up his packs from the ground as Malin yelled out for them to start moving. Riya grabbed his sleeve as Lukas bid her a final farewell and moved off. "I'm looking forward to my twenty kroën, too, so don't forget about that."

"Are you that confident that you're going to get it?" Matthias shot back teasingly. Before Riya could speak, he heard Lukas calling out.

"Matthias! Malin said to get moving, moron." When he turned to look, Lukas was looking back at him, wind gently blowing at his fair hair. His dark eyes were glittering with amusement, and his mouth was tilted upwards in the suggestion of a smile. Matthias had never seen the Fynknian really look anything but disgruntled, and the sight rendered him speechless for a moment.

He forced himself back to his senses as he dragged on his packs. Riya was smiling, less teasingly and more genuinely.

"I'm confident I'll get it." she murmured, before jerking her head in his direction. "Now, get going. Take care of each other." Matthias nodded, raising a hand to wave in farewell before turning to follow Lukas and the rest of Squad E out of Blå Ren and into uncharted territory.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
24th Juillat_

Yao tapped his pen against the desk impatiently, eyes flickering absently up to the clock hanging on the wall. He had agreed to sit in on a meeting with Aelia Gabras that morning, and he was severely regretting that decision of his. He could feel his fingers twitching sporadically, and at that moment, he wished for nothing more than to be able to leave without raising some eyebrows. A small part of him wanted to say 'fuck it' to their expectations and just leave, but the more sensible part of him insisted that he had agreed to sit in and track their progress. He couldn't back out of an obligation.

His shoulders were drawn together with so much tension that he felt like his muscles were slowly turning to rock. He rolled them absently, but it didn't seem to do much. He felt eyes on him, and turned his attention deliberately to the front of the room, watching Aelia intently rather than facing Ayshe. The discomfort that had existed between them had eased significantly after he had apologised to her following the mission to Xi Lan Ey and him finally getting on sleeping medication, but the oddness that hung in the air hadn't quite dispersed yet. Yao had been so busy in the last few weeks, coordinating the mission to the Red Pike that he had barely even seen her, much less spoken to her.

He could tell she was worried about him, which was hardly anything new, but he really didn't want to be cornered and questioned today. For all of his attempts to sleep and have a more healthy schedule, which both Ayshe and Kabeeta wanted for him, he had practically given up on sleep recently. The last two weeks had been plagued continuously by the presence of unidentifiable scratching, rustling and sliding noises that had roused him from sleep. He had still been unable to locate their source; in his frustration, he had pulled up every shrub and small plant within earshot near his tent, so that any wandering animals wouldn't make as much noise. His efforts had been in vain, and the sound had persisted. He had attempted to record the sounds at one point, but must have chosen a bad night to do it, since no unusual sounds had shown up on the tape. It was driving him mad.

Thankfully, giving up sleep was hardly a new experience for him, so it wasn't affecting his work performance too badly. He felt incredibly guilty about neglecting to use the sleeping tablets Kabeeta had given him, though, so he had been subtly trying to avoid her recently. With the sheer number of meetings, missions and other departments to manage, that hadn't proved difficult so far. Avoiding Ayshe was a little harder, since she and him helped manage many of the same areas within the resistance.

It wasn't that he still felt too awkward to speak to her, but she knew him better than anyone else, and he knew that she would pick up on it immediately if he was acting strange.

He felt some of the indescribable tension in his back ease when Aelia finally called the meeting to a close, and he stood quickly, trying to control himself enough to listen to her closing remarks before ducking out at the first socially acceptable opportunity.

He didn't get far before he heard Ayshe calling out to him. He hesitated before stopping and turning to face her. Even though she was standing right in front of him, he found his thoughts trailing and tumbling madly. Ayshe cocked her head to the side.

"Hey, it's been a while since we've talked, huh?" Yao blinked, trying to force his attention into a reasonable direction as he nodded. Ayshe bit her lip. "Yao, you don't look well." He could tell she was going to continue, so he remained silent. "And I know that I bug you about your health a lot, but it's only because I'm worried about you. You look tired. I thought you were taking the sleeping pills Kabeeta gave you?" he sighed and nodded. He just wanted to sleep, honestly. He could operate perfectly well without it, as he had been doing for the last week or so, but his body felt tired and heavy. To add insult to injury, he just felt emotionally low today. He wanted nothing more than curl up in bed and talk to no-one.

Ayshe was frowning at him. "Well? What's going on?"

Yao knew that his response wasn't going to be a good one, not when his thoughts were tumbling around like clothes in a dryer. Every few moments he found himself tacking on additional details and changing the subject as his mind directed him to. He vocalised everything that had been bothering him, though, so Ayshe should have been content.

Instead, she stared at him, expression verging into seriously concerned territory. "I'm sorry, what?" she said. Yao blinked. He really didn't want to explain himself.

"I just said-" he murmured. Ayshe cut him off.

"Yao…were you even listening to what you just said?" she asked, tone incredulous. "I…I honestly have no idea what you just said to me." Yao frowned. Had he slipped into speaking Yanish by accident? He hadn't done that in years – in fact, it had been years since he had spoken Yanish at all, since he was one of their only Yanish defectors. He missed the language a lot. There was nothing wrong with the Common Standard, but phonetically speaking it was far less pleasant to listen to than Yanish was. He broke himself from his thoughts when he felt Ayshe's hand on his arm, and he realised with a start that he had been speaking aloud.

He stepped away, pulling his arm out of her reach. "I…" he trailed off. "…Need sleep." Without saying anything else, he marched off, trying to rearrange the madness inside his head.

* * *

"Are you sure that you want me to handle the Hanlonya reports, Yao? Those are pretty important documents." Octavia said nervously. Yao nodded, staring at the mirror as he listened to her, wondering when his hair had gotten so dishevelled. He could have sworn he had washed and combed it not too long ago, but judging how it looked now, he had done neither for a while.

He had fired off a message to Ayshe about an hour after seeing her, explaining as best he could that he was just extremely tired and in need of a good sleep. She had seemed to accept that excuse, and simply reminded him to take Kabeeta's sleeping pills and stop stressing out. He had sighed a breath of relief when he saw that message. It didn't seem like she was going to go running off to the doctor or try and intervene. He appreciated Ayshe more than he was really willing to admit, and in ways he doubted he would ever vocalise, but she was too caring at times. He could handle himself, and he hardly wanted to be a burden on her or others. Everyone at this base had a job to do and his wasn't to distract his subordinates.

"Yes, Octavia." He said. "I'm sure. You're an extremely capable person and I know you'll do well." Octavia still didn't look convinced. Yao turned back to the mirror and scooped up his brush, tugging it through one section of his hair and frowning when it met immediate resistance. "Besides, who else would do it?"

"Well, you, for starters." Octavia said. "I think that was what everyone was expecting, honestly." Yao shrugged, tugging harder to try and work his brush through the clump of knotted hair he had discovered.

"So, I should lead the resistance by what people are expecting? That sounds like _such_ a reasonable strategy." He said, tone drawling with sarcasm. Octavia's face flushed.

"I didn't mean it like that." She said. "I just…I feel like you would be more of an expert in this department."

Yao tugged one final time at the clumped section of his hair before admitting defeat and dropping the brush, rummaging around in his drawers. "Well, I am the leader of the resistance, so it stands that I have essentially a reliable opinion on everything that goes on here, yes?" Octavia nodded. "Well, then it makes sense to say that if I think you are the best pick for the job, then I would have a highly reliable opinion, yes?" he hummed in satisfaction as he found what he was looking for.

"I suppose so, but that still- Oh, Yao, don't!" Octavia cut herself off, exclaiming. Yao froze, looking over at her in confusion, scissors poised to hack away at the disobedient section.

"It's just hair, Octavia." He said. "And you know I don't care too much for my looks." Octavia shook her head.

"I know but, you have such beautiful hair, Yao, you shouldn't just hack it off." Yao made a non-committal noise.

"Well it isn't cooperating with my brush, so it'll have to go."

"Oh, don't- _I'll_ do it. Drop those scissors, honestly." Yao obeyed out of sheer surprise as Octavia crossed his tent and plucked up the brush. Blinking in surprise when he realised that she was completely serious, he turned to offer her his long, black hair. She hummed in approval, and set to work, continuing to speak as she did. "All I meant to say, Yao, is that I think people would view the reports with more credibility if you wrote them."

He forced his attention away from the rhythmic sensation of her pulling the brush gently through the snag to loosen it. "I don't agree, Octavia. You're a very well-respected officer around here, and I know that everyone agrees." She sighed, continuing to gently brush his hair.

"Yao, you're an incredibly busy person, I realise that. You serve this movement better than anyone but…if it doesn't concern general public opinion or important missions, things can fall under your radar a little." Yao hummed, not disagreeing with that statement. "And, well…" Octavia hesitated, "Even though you've forgiven me for what I did back in Maarch, many people haven't. I think they would prefer if you were to complete the reports instead."

"Those people can come to me if they have any complaints. If you have any specific names, give them to me and I'll straighten them out. I refuse to let Zev's manipulation continue to affect the resistance. Those people should know that you're Vice-General for a reason." He felt Octavia's fingers gently shift a section of his hair back as she continued to brush it. He felt a lump rise in his throat. His mother had always done his hair back when he was young and still lived on Yan. He blinked back a sudden onslaught of budding tears in his eyes, refusing to let something that had happened so long ago affect him now.

"I appreciate your concern, Yao, but it isn't necessary. I can handle it. It's only fair to have my subordinates questioning my capability and loyalty, I suppose." Yao sighed, reaching back to still the movement of Octavia's hands.

"Octavia, you were being manipulated by a Union agent. He got inside everyone's heads, either directly or indirectly. You aren't responsible for that, and I thought I'd made it clear that I don't blame you for what happened." He felt Octavia's hands shake slightly.

"I put you through hell, Yao, and I really don't think you should be so forgiving of that." She whispered, voice thick. "I…the trial has made your life harder, hasn't it? I know that most everyone else is too worried about their own duties to notice but…you haven't been the same since. You…you don't seem mentally healthy."

Yao shook his head slightly, spinning around to face her. Octavia's eyes were bright with unshed tears.

"Octavia…" he trailed off, struggling to think of what to say. "I've never told you about my family, have I?" she sniffed, looking surprised by the turn the conversation had taken.

"Umm, well, no, you haven't." she murmured. Yao smiled weakly.

"Well, I didn't have a large one. I was an only child, so it was only my mother, father and I growing up. It sounds lonely, but it wasn't too bad. There were plenty of other kids to play with around the rest of the village. My parents are among the loveliest people you could ever meet. They're kind and compassionate, and I know that if they're still alive, they're probably still wondering what became of me." He looked up at the ceiling of his tent, hoping that his long absence hadn't affected his lovely parents too much.

"Now, my mother and father are wonderful people, but they aren't perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination." He glanced back at Octavia, who was watching him, expression caught halfway between upset and curiosity. "You said I don't seem mentally healthy," he shrugged. "You may be right, but then, I haven't been healthy in that department since before the Arbiter. This is par for the course for me." He sighed. "But even without the trial bringing those bad memories to the surface, if I am sick, it isn't your fault."

He made eye contact with her. "My father, well, to this day I don't know what he has, but he's had debilitating mental illnesses as long as I can remember. My mother always had to keep two eyes open when I was a child; one to make sure I didn't get into trouble, and one for my father as well. He's the gentlest person I've ever known, but he was a danger to himself at times." Noting Octavia's confusion, he pushed on. "What I mean to say by that, Octavia, is that there is a history of mental illness in my family. Blaming any problems that I'm having now exclusively on you is not only pointless, but also incorrect." He shrugged. "My mind is a wild place. It does what it wants sometimes, so please, stop acting like the difficulties I'm having now have anything to do with you."

Octavia was silent, and he heard her sniff quietly before she nodded. "I…" she trailed off, nodding again. "Okay." Yao smiled ever so slightly.

"I'll give you all of the files you need for the reports tomorrow." He said warmly. Octavia nodded again, handing him his brush back.

"Alright, thank you. I got the snag out. It just needed a little perseverance." He smiled and thanked her. Octavia clambered to her feet, hesitating before squeezing Yao's shoulder briefly and murmuring her thanks again before leaving. He hoped that her insecurities would fade over time. Like he said, she certainly wasn't Vice-General for nothing. Shaking his head a little, Yao returned his attention to brushing his hair, comb sliding easily through the section Octavia had worked through, a small smile on his face.

* * *

 _Onboard the SS Mutiny,  
Outer Space,  
25th Juillat_

Feliciano ran his bare foot absently along the flat side of the windowsill he was sitting on, gazing out at the array of stars beyond. He had been told that they were still about sixteen hours away from Nyma, which was more comforting than it should have been. He had agreed to join the resistance, but it felt wrong to feel relieved or excited when his brother still wasn't sitting here beside him.

Even his low mood couldn't detract from the beauty before his eyes, though. He had travelled through outer space before, of course, but in all of those instances, he had been cramped up in a musty hold with Lovino, or the ship hadn't had any windows to begin with. Even though on Cahya Maharani's ship there had been windows, and he had been free to move as he liked, he had been too shaken and disturbed by what he had done to appreciate the beauty outside. Even now, thoughts of Maharani were unwelcome and invasive, and he shuddered.

He had never been with anyone before her.

Between training his abilities and working and keeping his identity tightly under wraps, Feliciano had just never had the time to consider forming any sort of intimate relationship with everyone. But the opportunity to do so, to build up trust and intimacy over time, until he felt ready to take the next step, that had been stripped from him.

He pressed his hands to his eyes. Normally, he would have cried out the emotions tumbling around in his chest right now, but he couldn't find the energy to do so. He was just tired, inside and out, mentally and physically. He wanted to just lie down and have everything stop for a little while, so that he could catch up before being thrown straight into the next adventure. Of course, the universe waited for nothing and no-one, least of all a young, lost boy from Syhvva.

Feliciano ran a hand back through his hair. He had been lent soap and some clothes by the rebels, to replace the dirty ones he had been wearing, and it felt good to be somewhat clean again. He had scrubbed at his skin for what must have been nearly an hour, but he still didn't feel entirely clean. Failure and violation clung to him now, and he doubted he would shake them any time soon.

The clothes he had been lent were a little too big, but he didn't mind too much. They were comfy, and they didn't reek or Rela or Maharani's ship or the Red Pike. He forced his eyes open as he felt them fluttering closed. He felt safer here, it was true, much safer than he had in a while, but he still didn't want to sleep on a ship full of strangers.

He heard a light knock on the door and turned. "Come in." he said. His voice was hoarse, and he winced when he heard it. It came as a surprise when Vash, rather than one of the well-meaning rebels, stuck his head around the side of the door.

"You look wrecked, Feliciano." Vash murmured as he entered the room and shut the door behind him. "Have you slept?" Feliciano hesitated, unsure of why the assassin was showing so much concern. Vash had always gotten along better with Lovino, anyway, so it made little sense to Feliciano why the Pyndaphian man would now be worried about him.

"Not since we left the Pike." He gave Vash his steeliest look when the assassin sighed. "I'm on a ship full of people I either don't know or haven't seen in months. Are you expecting me to be relaxed?" Vash bit his lip, shaking his head.

"No, that's a fair point." He muttered. "You should still try and rest, though. We'll be on Nyma soon, and you'll be flung into a whirlwind of activity when that happens." Feliciano looked over at him. Vash shrugged. "Feliciano, you are royalty. The resistance is going to be very interested by you, and that's not even taking into account how much Tori and Emilia will want to talk to you."

Feliciano frowned. "Tori and Emilia? Who are they? And better yet, why would they want to talk to me?" Vash was silent for a moment.

"Viktorija Laurinaitis and Emilia Bondevik. They're members of the royal families of the other Free Courts, so they'll want to know you. You probably were acquainted with them when you were a kid." Feliciano was still.

"There…there were other royalty at the resistance and you only thought to tell me this now?" he said. Vash inclined his head.

"I didn't want you to think that we were trying to coerce you into coming. Yes, they are there. Lukas Bondevik was also on Nyma for a while, but I think he's gone back to Fynkn to fight now." Vash looked at him curiously. "Do you remember them at all?"

Feliciano sighed. Viktorija Laurinaitis brought up no old memories, despite his every effort, but he did remember a few things about Emilia Bondevik. Since their older brothers had been best friends as children, they had often ended up spending time together, too. He had liked her, he remembered that much. She was one of the only people he had ever met who had the same enthusiasm for butterflies as him. She was a year younger than him, if he remembered right.

He remembered Lukas Bondevik as well. He and Lovino had been inseparable whenever they were in the same area, and Lukas had been one of the only people able to bring a genuine smile to his brother's face when they were little. The Fynknian prince had been taking the first steps to counteract the poison being funnelled through Lovino's ears by their grandfather. It was a shame he wouldn't be able to see Lukas, and thank him for taking care of Lovino when Feliciano hadn't even realised his older brother needed taking care of.

"I remember a little." He admitted. "I guess it'll be interesting to see them after all this time." Vash nodded, and silence enveloped the two of them for a moment.

"The resistance isn't too bad." Vash said. "I mean, I'll probably be thrown straight back into a prison cell when we get back, but from what I've heard from people who are actually part of it, it's not half bad." Feliciano nodded. He could feel his exhaustion catching up with him, and his other emotions fighting to be shown. He sucked in a deep, shaky breath.

"I just want my brother back." He murmured. Vash nodded.

"And the rebels will do their best to get him back, Feli. That's not a promise I think they're likely to break." He nodded, fighting back tears.

"I know." He turned to look at Vash. "Didn't Dirie take someone from you?" Vash's expression suddenly turned sad.

"Yes…my younger sister, Lili." Feliciano nodded.

"How long has it been since she was kidnapped?" he asked gently. Vash sighed, and the sound made Feliciano's heart ache. It was a sound that indicated a weight heavier than a planet was resting on Vash's shoulders.

"About two years now." He said. "But I didn't have the whole force of the rebellion helping me find her. We'll get Lovino back a lot quicker." Feliciano nodded, suppressing a yawn as he forced his eyes to stay open. Vash observed him silently. "You need to sleep."

"I told you, I don't know anyone on this ship except you and Inkar." Feliciano mumbled. Vash shrugged.

"Then I'll stay here while you sleep." He said. "I won't leave you alone with them." Feliciano wanted to deny the offer, but he did trust Vash, he supposed, and he needed the sleep, desperately. Sighing, he nodded wearily and shifted into a laying position. The moment his head was on a softer surface, he could feel himself drifting away. He felt the gentle brush of a blanket being laid across him, before consciousness fled entirely, and he finally succumbed to sleep.

* * *

 **If you want a good idea of what Yao was doing with Ayshe, google 'word salad' and watch some of the videos. Some of the articles may give away what he's suffering from, so potential spoiler alert!**


	29. Darling, Life's a Nightmare

**And I'm back again! I had a wild week, but somehow managed to get this whole thing written! Yay! I turned 18 this week, so yay to that too! I can legally drink and vote in Australia! :DDDD Again, updates may be staggered a little because I have such intensive uni subjects this semester, so please forgive any late chapters! I decided to put this one up early, so y'all will be receiving this as either a Thursday morning or Thursday night update. I'm busy on Friday morning, so I didn't want to forget!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lukas and Matthias met the rest of their squad, which includes Ros, Hans, Nina and Lukas' second cousins, Faena and Birgitte Lindholm, who have minor forms of the royal powers. They also said farewell to Riya, who is confident that Matthias will be paying up soon.**  
 **\- Yao found his ability to talk screwing up a little, concerning Ayshe. Again, if you are willing to suffer spoilers, just google 'word salad'. He spoke to Octavia, who also brushed his hair for him.**  
 **\- Vash comforted Feliciano as they prepare to arrive on Nyma.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Depiction of mental illness (poor Yao), aggressive language and swearing**  
 **\- An extended flashback scene full of gory and disturbing violence (it's the section all in italics if you want to avoid it)**  
 **\- Human trafficking and references to slavery**

 **I hope you guys like this one! There are some important tidbits in here! Please review to save a sleep-deprived uni student's life. I love y'all! :D**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
26th Juillat_

Vash watched as the myriad of reds and browns that covered Nyma's vibrant surface approached. True to his word, he had stayed seated by Feliciano's side until the young Syhvvanian had finally stirred again. It was good to see that the bags around the prince's eyes were a little less severe now, even if he still looked like he needed to be comatose for a week to fully recover.

They were only an hour from Nyma, and Vash could feel his stomach churning. He wasn't so much worried about Feli as he was about himself. He knew the rebels valued the Free Court royals like none other; they would take care of him and would definitely launch an attempt to find Lovino and get him back too. But Vash? He had served his purpose the minute they had located Feliciano. The only reason Yao had shown such an interest in Vash and allowed him to go to the Red Pike in the first place was so they could gather clues on Rela first. The small pieces of evidence he had found didn't matter anymore, not when he had a living, breathing prince standing beside him.

He didn't think the rebels would outright kill him. They tended to have a humanitarian focus, and it seemed a little crueller than Yao was going for, but he would probably be thrown straight back into his cell, which almost sounded more unbearable. He was used to moving freely, and the mission to the Red Pike had only reminded him how severely his movements had been limited in the last few months. He sighed. Even if he did get thrown straight back into jail, at least Feliciano would be safe.

Elizabeta was standing by the console as the ship angled it's nose downwards and began its dive through Nyma's atmosphere. She had radioed ahead to request the assembly of the resistance's most senior members. Since the rebels no longer had any leadership issues like they had back in Maarch, it seemed that the most important figures in the rebellion were all to be told of Feliciano's identity. It shouldn't have made Vash squirm with discomfort, but it did. He was a person who appreciated secrecy, so it made him uncomfortable when he saw things like this happening.

The ship began to shudder as they plunged faster towards Nyma's surface. He felt a hand encircle his wrist. It was Feliciano, looking a little worried. Vash fought down a smile.

"It's fine, Feli." He murmured. "We'll be on the ground soon." Feliciano nodded, relaxing a little, but he didn't release Vash's wrist.

It was always strange to enter a planet when it wasn't daytime. The light provided in outer space by the system's sun just faded away gradually until they had gotten down to the same level of light that the ground had. Vash's adjusted clock indicated that it was only 4 in the morning at Draak-Zafi Forra right now, which explained why the sky was dark as they landed, the deep navy lightening in the east. Vash could see the likely-sleepy members of the night shift observing them sharply as they landed. He sighed, appreciating what would likely be his last few moments of freedom.

A rebel fighter that Vash recognised as Nelia approached the ship as they disembarked, Feliciano trailing behind Inkar cautiously and observing the area with hawk-like eyes. He had chosen to conceal his vibrant red hair under his misshapen black wool beanie again. Nelia raised an eyebrow at Elizabeta as the Daernic girl staggered down from the ship.

"A council has been assembled, per your request." The rebel said. "Your debriefing has been delayed until this afternoon." Elizabeta nodded, thanking the girl before turning to them. She swept her eyes over the group critically.

"Okay, then, Feliciano and Inkar, you two will need to come with me." She eyed Vash. "You can come along too…" she trailed off then also nodded at Arthur. "And Arthur too. Let's go." Vash sighed but followed her across the dry, cracked earth of the ground. He could see Feliciano looking at everything, flinching a little at every sound. Vash's stomach turned. He didn't like that a council had been assembled. He could hardly believe the thought was his own, but he would have much rather taken Feliciano straight to Yao. That man, at least, was straight forward.

They were led to one tent Vash had never even seen before, that looked like it was used for a lot of meetings. A large, circular table had been placed in the centre of the tent, with countless chairs assembled around it. A collection of papers, folders and books had been neatly stacked in the middle of the table, and he could see filing cabinets holding even more files standing around the edges of the room.

There was a group of people assembled, some sitting in the chairs around the tables and others standing. Vash narrowed his eyes. He already didn't like this.

* * *

Elizabeta surveyed the room, frowning when she saw that Yao wasn't among those present. She wanted to voice her questions, but she didn't want to be scorned by others here. Some people seemed to think she relied too heavily on Yao as things were. She hardly wanted to give those claims legitimacy. She straightened up and looked around again.

Octavia was there, sitting in one of the chairs and giving her a comforting smile. Elizabeta didn't think she'd ever been so glad to see the Vice-General as she was now. Mohammed Hassan was there too, drumming his fingers on the timber table and looking a little tired. Aelia Gabras, a snappy senior officer whom Elizabeta disliked deeply, also happened to be there.

There were some mildly friendly faces, like Kabeeta, who had probably been plucked from the hospital to check up on everyone once this meeting was over. Atalaya Somero, one of the resistance's ace pilots, was also in attendance, as was Jamael Laroussi, whom Elizabeta had seen very little of since he had acted as one of the judges at Yao's trial. Ayshe, like Yao, was nowhere to be seen.

Octavia leant forwards a little upon noting Elizabeta's confusion. "Yao's asleep, I think, and Ayshe is running diagnostics for the Minnerman extraction mission." Liz nodded, relaxing a little.

"Alright, can we actually get to it now?" Aelia's voice cut through the air, sharp and unpleasant. Elizabeta swallowed her amusement when she saw Arthur make a face. Aelia's cold eyes bored into her. "Well, Lieutenant Colonel Hedervary, you requested an assembly for a reason." Elizabeta resisted the urge to clench her teeth. She had never liked Vice-General Gabras, and Gabras had never liked her, either. It was a mutual dislike.

She cleared her throat and began to speak. "Well, according to the Code of Conduct established by our forebears, it is customary to assemble a committee whenever a mission results in the retrieval or extraction of any person or persons seeking to join the resistance. I thought it pertinent to ask for high-ranked officers based on the current circumstances." Aelia raised an eyebrow, and Elizabeta gestured to Feliciano and Inkar. "These two chose to accompany us here from the Red Pike."

Aelia huffed. "So, you just decided that it was perfectly safe to allow two strangers to show up at the resistance? Miss Hedervary, do you have no concept of how dangerous that is?"

"No, you don't understand-" Elizabeta said. Aelia cut her off with a sharp look.

"Quiet, Lieutenant Colonel." She spat. "For the record-"

"Let her speak, Aelia." Octavia spoke up, sending Aelia an unimpressed look. "You're trying to judge her actions without even letting her explain them first." Octavia turned to Elizabeta. "Please elaborate, Liz." Elizabeta nodded, trying to hide the smile that broke out over her face when Octavia said that.

"They expressed a definitive interest in joining our forces, and it is my opinion that their membership here would be greatly beneficial to the wider community." She took a breath, and Aelia took the opportunity to speak again. Liz bit back a sigh. She really did hate the Vice-General.

"It sounds like you used a very objective set of criteria to determine whether or not you should listen to their request, which sounds outright dangerous and irresponsible to me." Gabras said. "It's unbelievable to me that you've managed to maintain your position for this long-"

"For the love of every god one can worship, Gabras, sit down and shut your mouth and let Elizabeta finish." Liz couldn't help the grin that stretched across her face when everyone in the room spun and saw Yao standing by one of the entrances to the tent. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed indeed. He was wearing a long-sleeved grey shirt and three-quarter black pants, with a pair of old boots pulled on. His hair was twisted into a messy knot on the top of his head, and he was wearing fingerless black wool gloves rather than the full leather ones like normal.

"G-general…" Aelia stuttered. "You aren't supposed to-"

"Because you neglected to inform me of this, yes, Aelia." He said, tone irritable. "I am not supposed to be here. I would think that I would be the first person informed in the case of a new recruit to our ranks. I'm disappointed you don't share the same view." He said, tone cold as ice. Elizabeta shuddered slightly. Yao had an odd, erratic air about him this morning, and it was making Elizabeta a little uncomfortable. Aelia fell silent. Yao turned and surveyed the group of them, eyes stilling as he looked at Feliciano and Inkar. He turned to Elizabeta. "How important is this?"

"Quite." Elizabeta responded. Aelia spoke up from behind Yao.

"This isn't necessary, General, we can manage this on our own. You do not need to step into every single situation." Elizabeta watched Yao's face as Aelia spoke, and…

Well, what happened wasn't normal.

He seemed to have too much energy, eyes darting around ceaselessly. There was a tic in his jaw and his fingers seemed to be tensing and relaxing. She watched the irritation build on his face, before his expression abruptly went slack. He glanced sideways briefly, like he had been signalled from someone, before his eyes widened briefly and he spun around to face Aelia, who fell silent in the face of the look he sent her. Elizabeta got the sense that something wasn't quite right. The erratic energy in Yao's body seemed to have travelled into his eyes. They had a bizarre, half-crazed look she had never seen on him before.

"Aelia, kindly stop speaking. We hardly want you to lower the collective intelligence of the room more than you already have." Elizabeta's mouth dropped open. Yao could be harsh, yes, but he normally remained professional. She saw an equally surprised look on Arthur's face. Yao made an odd humming noise. "I so often come running to these situations because I often cannot trust the reasoning of the people assigned to it otherwise. Given that you were taking the reins here, I think I was right in my decision to gate-crash this endeavour."

Aelia looked thunderstruck. "Yao-"

"Go." He said, and suddenly the cruel, chiding tone was gone and replaced with something harsh and cold. "Out, all of you except Octavia, now." He directed this remark at the gathered officials behind him. They all looked stunned.

"You can't just-" Aelia tried to say. Yao spun around to face her again.

"Pray tell, Aelia, what is your rank?"

She was silent for a moment. "I'm a Vice-General." She said. Yao nodded, a few too many times for it to be normal. Elizabeta could feel her stomach churning.

"Yes, and what's my rank?" he asked.

"…You're a General."

"My, my, right again. So, Vice-General Gabras, who here outranks who?" Aelia looked positively miserable as she responded.

"You outrank me, sir."

"Yes, I do indeed." Yao said, leaning down so his and Aelia's faces were level. "So. Get. Out. All of you, now." Aelia turned on her heel and marched out, but not quickly enough for Elizabeta to miss the slight shaking of her clenched fists. Yao could be remarkably intimidating, even unarmed as he was right now.

Yao waited in silence until all of the officials except Octavia had slipped out the door, then turned to Elizabeta. Octavia, still seated behind him, looked very confused and concerned.

"Yao, you didn't have to do that…" Elizabeta murmured. Yao shrugged, eyes seeming to be skimming every part of the room except her.

"Most of them don't know what they're doing." he spat, voice suddenly filled with aggression. "So yes, I did." Elizabeta bit her lip, falling silent. Yao took a deep breath and released it. "Kindly explain this, Liz."

So, she did her best, she explained the madness that had occurred at the Red Pike, and Vash's declaration that they needed to find Feliciano, and the search and confrontation that had followed, and that after much convincing, how Feliciano, and Inkar by extension, had agreed to come with them. Yao nodded, looking at Feliciano with interest.

"That true?" he asked, tone much gentler than it had been earlier. Feliciano exchanged a look with Vash before extending his arm and letting flames burst to life in his palm. Yao watched him for a moment, before nodding. Feliciano extinguished them and wrapped his arms around himself. "You're alone." Yao observed. Feliciano bit his lip, nodding. Yao cocked his head to the side. "What happened to your brother?"

"Dirie kidnapped him and sold him to another pirate." Vash spoke up. Yao nodded, looking deep in thought. He turned to Octavia.

"Octavia, alert our scouters that they should look out for a Syhvvanian male about 20 years old passing through the slave industry." He said. Feliciano looked up.

"You're really going to look for him?" he asked. Yao watched him for a moment, nodding like he couldn't understand why Feliciano looked so shocked.

"We will, and we'll hopefully find him, too." He sighed. "I must apologise for my behaviour earlier. That wasn't the best first impression. I'm normally not that mean." Feliciano nodded, mouth quirking ever so slightly at the edge. His gaze slid across to Inkar. "And you're here for him, then?" she nodded. Yao inclined his head. "Very well. Stay out of trouble and we should have no problem. Now," he turned back to Feliciano. "You look wrecked. Let's get you some proper food."

Elizabeta saw Vash frown as Feliciano nodded and moved towards Yao. "What about me?" the assassin asked. Yao raised an eyebrow.

"What about you, Mr Zwingli?" he asked. Vash hesitated.

"Aren't you going to throw me straight back into my cell?" he asked. Yao hummed thoughtfully. He turned to Feliciano, and jerked his head at Vash.

"You trust him?" he asked. Feliciano looked surprised, but nodded.

"Umm, yes, I suppose so." He said. Yao nodded, then looked back at Vash.

"You can wander around freely for now, but I wouldn't try anything if I were you, Zwingli." He said, before turning his attention back to Feliciano. "Come on, I think they should have some breakfast muffins lying around in the dining hall."

* * *

 _Knamskat Conifer Forest  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
28th Juillat_

Matthias had honestly expected the experience of being forced into close quarters with Lukas Bondevik to be very unpleasant. It certainly hadn't been fun, but it also wasn't as bad as he had feared. Sure, he and Lukas didn't get along perfectly, and he didn't think it was in the cards for them to ever really _not_ be at odds about something or other, but they weren't at each other's throats like they had been when they'd first met.

That being said, though, neither of them was too fond of the tent situation. This was predominantly due to the fact that the tent was small, and though Lukas was slender and short, Matthias was neither of those things. The tent itself was only about the size of a queen bed, and when taking into account they had their packs and gear stashed along the sides and at the ends, the actual space they had for sleeping was limited. Malin had mentioned that it was wise to share body heat to prevent frostbite or just general discomfort, but they honestly had no real choice but to be pressed up against each other.

Matthias had tried to be considerate by lying on his side, but the ground underneath them was so uncomfortable and the sleeping bags that they had offered so little padding that he had ended up muttering an apology and shifting back into lying on his back. Lukas didn't seem thrilled about them ending up with their sides pressed together, but he had blessedly refrained from explicitly blaming Matthias for this. He knew the bounty hunter couldn't go and change his body shape, so they had learned to shut up and deal with it.

It wasn't all bad, though. For how icy an expression Lukas normally had, he was remarkably warm. So much so that Matthias had actually found himself subtly shifting closer to the Fynknian on their first night out, when he hadn't been able to shrug off the intense cold settling into his bones. They tended to respect each other's space, too, even though accidental elbowing was to be expected.

Overall, Matthias had actually ended up getting decent sleep, but the same couldn't be said for Lukas. The first day he had noticed the dark bags and fatigued attitude, Matthias had immediately felt a spike of guilt, wondering if he was the reason the Fynknian was starting to look dead on his feet. When he'd plucked up the courage to ask, Lukas had simply shaken his head.

"No, you sweet idiot, it isn't you." He had said, sighing before admitting. "I'm still having nightmares; I don't know why." That had just concerned Matthias more. Lukas' nightmares could get incredibly bad, he knew that much. Normal nightmares didn't make people empty their stomachs, after all. Lukas was still yet to elaborate on what he saw in said nightmares, and Matthias wished he could somehow communicate to the prince that he was hardly going to judge him, no matter what it was.

But he kept his mouth shut, because he didn't think Lukas would appreciate him being so concerned. Matthias wasn't the only person who was worried, though. One of their squad mates, Faena, had asked him if Lukas was okay just the day before. Matthias had been unable to do much but shrug and say he didn't know. It felt wrong to spill the guy's secrets, so he kept his knowledge and worries to himself.

He had tried to stay up one night, so that he could wake up Lukas if he saw him in distress while in his sleep. It had been oddly calming, watching the Fynknian sleep. Every negative emotion he normally had on his face was wiped free, and Matthias could honestly say the other actually looked his age when he was sleeping. It was nice, not seeing the usual scowl or frown or agitated apathy that Lukas normally displayed. Matthias's attempts to stay awake had failed, however, and he had woken at daybreak, when Malin slapped the outside of their tent to wake them up. Lukas had already been up, and looking more wrecked than before.

Tonight, though, something was different. Tonight, unlike every other night where Lukas had been having nightmares that flew under the radar, Matthias woke up.

He wasn't sure what had woken him at first, and he blinked in bewilderment as he glanced around the dark tent. It was pitch black outside, and there were no tell-tale voices from outside that would indicate it was time for them to go. He rubbed at his eyes, sitting up as he yawned and blinked in confusion.

That was when he heard it. It was a low whimper, a sound full of fear and pain. Matthias turned towards Lukas, who was undoubtedly the source of the noise, and felt his eyes widen when he realised what he was seeing. The teen was curled up in a tight ball, hands in his hair, face screwed up in a pained expression. Lukas exhaled shakily, and Matthias heard a low, fractured sob that broke his heart. He didn't know what Lukas was dreaming of, but he doubted it was anything good.

His hand was extended to shake the prince awake when he hesitated. Lukas had made it clear that he didn't like being touched when he was asleep. When Matthias had curiously asked why, Lukas had shrugged and said. "It's hard to explain. Weird things sometimes happen when I'm asleep." Matthias had accepted that explanation and dropped the subject at the time, but he was regretting that now. Weird things? Like _what?_

Lukas sobbed in his sleep again, and Matthias felt his heart twist painfully. It was such an awful sound, not least because it was so far from the emotions that Lukas normally let other people see him displaying. There was something raw and vulnerable here, and Matthias abruptly felt like he shouldn't be seeing this.

Shaking his head and vowing to apologise for disturbing his sleep, Matthias reached out and grabbed the warm, bare skin of Lukas' arm, intending to shake him awake.

That was a mistake.

He had the immediate sensation of being doused in icy water, and his head spun as the world seemed to tilt sideways. The last thing he saw before he was plunged into a void of darkness was Lukas' eyes, open and staring. But there was something wrong with them. His pupils were dilated, so much so that the blue of his irises wasn't even visible anymore.

 _Oh, I fucked up_ , was the last thing that passed through Matthias's mind before he sank into the memories of another time.

* * *

 _It was cold._

 _It was always cold, but tonight especially. That was the only thought that passed through his head as he wriggled his toes in a desperate attempt to generate some warmth. He drew his legs up to his chest, rubbing at his chilled toes with his hands instead. That worked a lot better, but he had no sooner stretched his legs out again than he felt cold once more._

 _He stared around his room, eyes not quite adjusted to the darkness. He bit his lip. It would be immature of him to call for Silje. His mother's handmaiden was probably sleeping, and he didn't want to wake her up. But the darkness and the unusual cold was starting to unnerve him. He fumbled around in the bed for his close companion, sighing in relief as his arms closed around the fluffy wolf toy he had been given by his father. He brought the toy closer to him, burying his face in the warm, fluffy 'fur'._

 _He had no idea why he had woken up, mostly because he never really woke up at night. He was good, he slept through the whole night now, unlike his sister, so it was strange that he was awake now. His stomach was churning, and he whimpered as he buried his face back in his wolf's fur. He felt so sick all of a sudden. He didn't know why, but something wasn't right._

 _He reluctantly sat up, still keeping a tight hold on his little wolf, before shuffing over to the edge of his bed and jumping down onto the icy marble floor. His stomach turned violently, and he found himself leaning over and gagging even though nothing came out of his mouth. None of his mother's maids came running, so he was right in thinking they were all asleep._

 _He sniffed, rubbing his eyes when the nausea passed. He wanted his mama and papa. They always took care of him when he was sick or upset. Taking care to not make too much noise, lest maids come running after all, he slipped his door open, wolf firmly tucked under one arm and darted outside. It was even more freezing out here. He frowned. Was the heating not turned on?_

 _He moved down the hall to his parents' room, pausing whenever he heard shuffling from behind the doors that indicated someone was awake. No-one emerged into the hallway, though, so he crept creeping onwards. He passed his sister's room, and finally made his way to his parents' door. After pressing his ear to the door. He heard nothing, so he assumed they were sleeping. He pushed it open, but blinked in surprise when he saw that their bed was empty. He frowned. Where were mama and papa?_

 _He stepped back outside as the bad feeling from earlier came back, stronger this time. He sniffled, hugging his wolf tighter as fear inexplicably overcame him. It wasn't because his parents weren't there. They'd had meetings a lot, so he was hardly around them all day every day, but there was something else wrong here. Maybe they had a really long meeting?_

 _He brightened up as that possibility occurred to him, and he headed for the stairwell to go downstairs. His parents' big meeting room was downstairs, so he would probably find them there._

 _He passed countless rooms, navigating fairly decently considering he was eight years old and not allowed in a lot of these places. He darted past the big dining room and sent a longing look in the direction of the kitchens, but kept moving. He found himself approaching the big throne room where his papa talked to people from the city and other places on the planet. It was a huge room, with a massive empty space in the middle. The big doors on the far side of the room led straight outside, and there were countless marble columns around the perimeter. He couldn't tell if the columns actually held up the roof or not, but he liked them._

 _He was just about to walk past the columns, and into the main throne room, when he almost doubled over with pain again._

 _HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE HIDE_

 _His brain was screaming at him, like an alarm going off. Danger, it said, run away, as far as you can go and as fast as you can. He ducked behind one of the big marble columns and pressed his front to it, too afraid to see what had warranted such a reaction from him. He hadn't seen or heard anything, but he knew his brain wasn't lying. Something was wrong. He carefully peeked out the other side, just in time to watch a group of people enter the room._

 _He could tell, from hours spent hiding and running around with Lovino, that though he could see them, from this angle, they couldn't see him. He blinked in shock as he observed them. There was a group of maybe six people clothed in black with weapons strapped to their belts. The other two…his heart leapt. His parents!_

 _As much as he wanted to run over to them, though, his feet remained rooted to the spot. He couldn't have moved even if he tried. He watched them. The people in black were holding his parents in a mean way. They had his mother by her long, fair hair, and two others were marching his father down to the throne room. His stomach turned over. His father had a knife pressed to his throat._

 _He shuffled back a little bit to remain out of sight as the group dragged his parents into the centre of the throne room. They forced his mother into a kneeling position, and also pressed a knife to her throat._

 _"Okay then, I'm going to make things easy for you." One of the men said, speaking, to his surprise, in the Common Standard. "Tell us where your little brats are, and I'll let your pretty bitch of a wife live."_

 _"Oskar-" his mother choked out. He could see his father staring at his mother, expression full of horror._

 _"I…" he trailed off. "No, please, I…"_

 _"Oskar if you say a thing, I will never forgive you." His mother choked out. His father stared at his mother again, then shook his head. The man with the knife at his mother's throat shrugged, and pulled the knife away before pushing her so she was leaning forward, and viciously drove the knife through her lower back. His mother let out a strangled cry of pain, but she didn't fall. He gave a start, but no sound escaped his mouth. He found himself frozen to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from the horrifying sight before his eyes._

 _"If you refuse to answer our questions, your majesty, I'm afraid you will be watching your wife slowly die. Han here knows how to stab someone so that they'll just hurt, not bleed out. So, consider that before deciding how to answer the next questions."_

 _"If you think I'm not willing to die for my children and this planet, you are sorely mistaken-" his mother choked out, voice strained. He could see red on the white shirt she was wearing. The guard holding her slammed the hilt of his knife into the side of her throat, so she was cut off, fingers scrabbling as her airway tried to open up again._

 _"Now, your majesty." The man holding his father asked. "How do we access the treasury vault beneath the palace?" his father was silent, and once again, the other man drove a knife into his mother's back. He pressed a hand to his mouth as it continued, his father remaining silent even as his mother sobbed with pain and tears ran down both their faces._

 _After what must have been almost an hour of questioning and silence and stabbing and sobbing, the apparent leader of the group shook his head. "This is a hopeless endeavour." He muttered, checking his watch. "The main strike team will be here in half an hour. Let's get going. We still have to find and kill the kids, yet." With no hesitation, the guard holding his blood-soaked, worn mother seized her hair again, yanked her head back and dug the knife deep into her throat. Crimson, so, so much of it, bubbled from the deep cut and finally, his mother went limp and crumpled to the ground._

 _The scream never left his throat, but he felt his toy wolf fall from his grip as he swayed and gripped the stone of the column. He heard his father's cry of anguish ring out across the throne room. His father reached out a hand to his mother, expression tormented, but he was yanked back. The leader of the men in black turned to his father, and grinned._

 _"And now, your majesty, it's your turn."_

 _One of the men holding his father back drew a steel bat from his belt and slammed it into his father's leg. It bent inward with a sickening crunch of bones, and he heard his father scream in pain. He staggered back, shaking, watching as the other men moved towards his father and grabbed him._

 _Through the haze of tears running down his face, he couldn't tell exactly what they were doing to his father, but he saw enough. He saw knives soaked in blood and heard screams and gurgling and bones cracking and crunching. He watched them separate one of his father's arms from the rest of his body. Then the other one. Then his legs too. He watched as one of them picked up coils of something that looked like a bloody rope, tossing it to the side as the incomprehensible gurgling that his father was emitting continued. He watched them laugh as blood spread outwards, an unstoppable tide of it, as they killed his father._

 _They had hurt his mother, before her death, that was true. They hurt his mother, but they were tearing his father to pieces._

 _He watched them plunge their hands into his father's eye sockets and yank them back out again. He watched them pulverise his father's body until it didn't even look human anymore. He staggered backwards, stomach churning as his horrified, overwhelmed mind finally couldn't take it anymore. His stomach twisted and heaved, and bile rushed up his throat-_

* * *

Reality slammed back into Matthias with the force of a tidal wave as the horrifying images receded and he felt himself settle back into his own body. He wasn't watching anyone die. He was 23, not 8. And he wasn't Lukas.

But he did feel incredibly sick.

He made eye contact with Lukas, who was awake and lucid now, before he saw the Fynknian's stomach physically heave and the teen stumbled to his feet and bolted out of the tent. Matthias pressed a hand solidly to his own mouth, trying to fight back the images of the man – Lukas' _father_ – being torn up by cruel Unionists. His own stomach was churning, and he really wasn't being helped by the sounds of retching and gagging outside that he could hear from Lukas.

Saints.

That…that _nightmare_ … _that_ was what Lukas had been seeing every night when he went to sleep? Matthias felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He had known the Expansion was bad, and that it was very violent. He knew that Lukas' parents had died, as had all of the other adult royals save the old guy on Syhvva.

But he never would have anticipated that. Matthias fumbled for his water bottle, taking a few cautious sips in an attempt to allay the nausea in his gut. It was bad enough even as a casual observer, but if he had watched his parents suffer the same fate, Matthias could say with confidence that he would have been just as sick as Lukas was being now.

He wanted to follow Lukas outside and talk to him, but he couldn't seem to make himself move. He was shaking, and not from the cold air brushing along his skin from outside. Matthias ran his hands up and down his face, sucking in a deep breath. He couldn't believe this.

There was a long moment of silence before he forced himself to leave the tent. Lukas wasn't vomiting anymore, but he was curled up, knees drawn up to his chest, and shaking. Matthias felt his heart twist as he approached and ever so carefully placed his hand on Lukas' shoulder, making sure to not touch his bare skin again. Lukas barely reacted, his head twitching to the side slightly before returning to its original position.

"Lukas…" Matthias said, voice trailing off. He heard Lukas breathe shakily.

"You saw it, didn't you?" the prince said, and his voice sounded so raw and distressed that Matthias had to physically hold himself back from wrapping the Fynknian up in his arms.

"I…yeah." Matthias murmured. They were both silent, neither knowing exactly what to say next. "Do…do you see that every time you go to sleep?" he asked, voice so quiet he initially feared that Lukas hadn't heard him. The teen shuddered again, then nodded. Matthias made a horrified sound in the back of his throat, squeezing Lukas' shoulder.

"It's my own fault, though." He heard Lukas murmur. "I should have done something…" Matthias snapped his head around to look at him.

"What?" he said, staring at the Fynknian. "Are you kidding me right now?" Lukas flinched away from him a little, and he cursed under his breath and shuffled a little closer. "Lukas, look at me." He didn't think the teen would obey at first, until Lukas reluctantly turned to look at him. Matthias' breath caught in the back of his throat. Lukas was crying, and even now his expression looked so lost and desolate for a moment that Matthias had to shove down his own emotions. Not sure exactly what he was doing, he reached out and cupped Lukas' face in his hands.

"Lukas listen to me right now, and commit this shit to memory," Matthias said. "There is absolutely nothing you could have done to stop them, okay? They were fully trained adults, and there were six of them. They came into the palace aiming to kill your whole family, and the fact they failed to do so is frankly a miracle. You were _eight years old_ , and don't you dare let yourself think that you could have done anything at the time." Lukas was silent, but he maintained eye contact with Matthias. Matthias swallowed. "You. Were. A. Kid. A fucking kid. And I'm so sorry about what happened to your parents, I really am. I didn't know them, but I know they didn't deserve that. But they wouldn't blame you, I really don't think they would. Don't ever think that anyone except the Union is responsible for what happened."

Lukas broke eye contact, looking away. "I…" he trailed off, and Matthias could see tears building up in his eyes. "I just…"

Matthias gave into the urge that had seized him when he'd first seen Lukas' tears, and he pulled the younger man into a tight hug, trying to communicate all of the sympathy and horror he was feeling with the gesture. Lukas was stiff for a long moment, obviously not accustomed to being hugged like this, or hugged at all, before relaxing and wrapping his arms around Matthias and burying his head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. He ignored Lukas' muttered disagreements.

"It wasn't your fault." He murmured, trying to be as soothing as he could. "Lukas, it wasn't your fault." Lukas' muttered words finally trailed off, and Matthias said nothing when he felt the Fynknian shake slightly with suppressed sobs, nor when he felt tears leak through the fabric of his shirt. He just held him, not saying a word.

After a long while, Matthias felt Lukas pull away, and he released his tight hold. The prince was wiping at his face, eyes downcast. Matthias smiled, then jerked his head back in the direction of the tent. "Let's go back to sleep, yeah?" Lukas nodded silently, accepting Matthias' helping hand and clambering to his feet. They didn't speak again as they dusted snow off their clothes or as they shuffled back underneath their discarded blankets, or as they lay down and shifted around a little until they were comfortable.

Matthias watched as drowsiness overtook Lukas' face again, and watched as the distress and melancholy eased its way off his face with sleep. He kept up a vigil, searching his face for any further signs of fear or sadness or pain. By the time Malin had rapped on the outside of their tent to tell them they were to get up and go, Lukas seemed to have actually had a somewhat peaceful sleep. The same couldn't be said for Matthias, but he didn't mind too much.

And when he offered Lukas a gentle smile when he woke up, he was surprised and pleased to receive one in return.

* * *

 _Onboard the SS Racketeer,  
Docked at Nexa Mis, aka 'The Slave Garden', Xexei,  
29th Juillat_

Lovino peered out the small, grimy window set into the side of the room, trying to see beyond the metallic walkways that spanned the landing site. He frowned. He could see some unusual buildings beyond the site, but not enough to effectively determine where exactly they had docked. Liliana was standing next to him, bouncing on her toes.

"Can you see anything?" she asked, sounding curious. Making a face, Lovino shook his head, lowering himself back down with a sigh.

"Nothing." He said. Eladina, standing a little ways' behind them, frowned and tapped her foot against the ground. The other prisoners scattered around them looked ill at ease. Kelly had indicated he would be selling them off in bulk. Their numbers had halved in the last week, and it was honestly a miracle that Lovino, Eladina and Lili hadn't been separated yet.

Lovino grumbled under his breath as he heard the distinct clanging of footsteps above them. They had docked here for a long time, so it was likely that the pirates were going to enter their shared cell at some point soon and drag them out to be sold. Lili was biting her lip, looking nervous. He frowned down at her, leaning over a little so his eyes were level with hers.

"Hey, what is it?" he said. Lili sighed, looking so despondent Lovino felt his stomach twist. She was far too young to look so troubled.

"It's just…" she trailed off hesitantly. Lovino gently prompted her to continue. Lili sniffled. "I've been alone for so long. If Kelly sells you and Ela, I'll be alone again, and I really don't want that to happen." Lovino winced.

"Lili…" he trailed off, sighing. "Lili, I know it isn't nice to be alone, but it's vastly better than being sold to a slaver or some random client, okay? Dirie probably told Kelly not to sell you, so you're safe." Lili shook her head, tears budding in her eyes.

"I've been Dirie's prisoner for two years." She said. "I'd rather be sold at this point if I got to stay with you and Ela-" Lovino gripped her shoulders, shaking his head.

"No, Lili, don't say that. Being a slave is not an enviable position." He said. "You should never want that." She was silent, staring at the floor as tears slipped out from her eyes and slid down her face.

"I just…it's been so long since I felt like I could trust anyone." She murmured. "I don't want you to vanish and leave me alone with these people too." She looked up at him. "My actual brother already did that. Please don't do the same thing." Lovino flinched as his thoughts momentarily traipsed towards his own younger sibling. He shook his head even as he found himself recoiling internally at the thought of abandoning Lili to the criminals here. From what he had heard, after all, Dirie had promised to return Lili to Vash alive. She never said Lili would be unharmed.

It was moments like this that Lovino wished he had the power of mental manipulation like Lukas did. It would be so easy; just a bit of convincing that Lili should be sold with him and Ela, and all to the same buyer. But he wasn't Lukas, and all he had to work with was fire and telekinesis. He had always envied his childhood best friend, not least for his nice family and lack of stringent lessons, but this was the first time he had legitimately wished that they could trade abilities. He sighed, glancing around.

There was a girl who looked very similar to Lili, so-

 _No. Honestly?_ His better sense muttered at him. _Don't even consider it. Being thrown into a life of slavery? Lili doesn't deserve that_. He shook his head. Really, what was wrong with him? He was separated from Feliciano for five weeks and he decided to start adopting every young teenager he met? He really needed to get the hell off this ship. He heard footsteps, much louder now, and stepped away from the window, sliding back into a sitting position as the door swung open.

The grimy men who entered were speaking in Jhobrasian, which made Lovino's heart race. Finally, a language he could actually understand.

"What are they asking for, again?" one grunted. The other sighed and pulled out an order, squinting at it.

"Young and able-bodied. Kelly'll come in around fifteen to make the final pick. Got special instructions from Dirie, after all." They surveyed the room and wandered among the group, grabbing older and weaker people out from the masses and shoving them into one corner, until the younger and healthier prisoners had all been sorted into one side of the room. Lili pressed her face into Lovino's arm, whimpering fearfully. Lovino looked around, nausea stirring his gut. He could hear loud talking from above.

" _Girl….blond….can't be sold…..request….good owner…..for the Syhvvanian…_ " Lovino felt his stomach turn over. Why were they talking about him and Lili? He glanced around again. Liliana looked up at him, silent and pleading. He felt Eladina slip her hand around the crook of his other arm, expression pained. He could tell what she was trying to say from her look. _Are you really going to leave her here?_

Lovino knew that it was best for Lili if she stayed here. Even as a prisoner, she wouldn't be legally considered property. Besides, even if she was sold as a labourer, there were always old creeps who liked to have their way with young girls. A shock went through his system as he remembered one of the other prisoners, who had been severely beaten for trying to fight her way out, had a small knife on her.

It was best for Lili to stay here, but Lovino was weak, and he wanted to take care of her.

A whispered handful of words had the suspicious girl pressing the knife into his hand. Wrapping his hand around the hilt, he beckoned Lili over. He paused momentarily, doubts flying through his head before his overwhelming desire to keep the innocent blond girl safe overrode everything else. He grabbed a chunk of her soft blond hair, dug the knife in near her scalp, and hacked it off.

There were old creeps everywhere who liked little girls. There were fewer old creeps who liked little boys, and Liliana, with a few adjustments, was _just_ androgynous enough to pass for one. She seemed to understand his reasoning, and stood perfectly still as he hacked her hair off. One of the other prisoners, who seemed to have also caught on, started to kick the hair underneath a pile of dirty rags sitting in the corner. Lili bit her lip as he cut her hair. It was a horrid, uneven job, done so unevenly that he also drew blood in some places. But they didn't have time for a neat haircut session.

When he had cut off the totality of her mid-length blond hair, she reached up and shook out her shirt to discard any lingering strands. The clothes she was wearing were baggy and filthy anyway; she looked virtually indistinguishable from prisoners like Lovino and Eladina. He watched her reach a hand up to cautiously feel at her brutally-buzzed hair as he handed the other girl back her knife. One prisoner reached up to the loose scarf tied around her hair, unwound it and handed it over.

"Here, girl. Bind your chest. Not too tight. You're only young, so you don't need too much pressure, but enough so that it looks flat." Lili, shaking slightly but looking determined, did as the woman said (Lovino pointedly looked away as she did), and when he turned back, she looked thoroughly boyish. He leant down a little and made eye contact with her again.

"Try to deepen you voice a little." He said. "Not too much, but enough to sound like a prepubescent boy, at least." Lili nodded. There were footsteps outside again. Lovino reached over and grabbed the other blond girl who resembled Lili. This would thing would fail completely if Kelly knew what Lili looked like, but Lovino doubted the pirate would spend so much time on other peoples' cargo. "If they ask for Liliana Keller, that's you, okay?" the girl looked frightened, but he must have intimidated her enough into submission, because she nodded. He released her arm and tried to calm the pounding of his heart as the door swung open.

Kelly marched in, looking like he was flying high on his own swagger, followed by a solemn-looking young man dressed in a formal black suit. The second man looked Xeir, with dark, slicked back hair and sharp golden eyes. He scrutinised the group of them as Lovino scowled at him. He was virtually hidden behind another, taller prisoner, so he couldn't be seen anyway, but it felt good to do. Raising an eyebrow, the man turned to Kelly and spoke, blessedly, in the Common Standard.

"So, these are Dirie's catches, then?" his voice was smooth and cultured. He basically stank of the upper class. Kelly nodded, then looked around, his eyes narrowing.

"Keller?" Kelly asked. Lovino watched the girl he had intimidated just before jump slightly, sending a frightened look in his direction before timidly stepping forward. Kelly nodded, grabbing her arm and moving her over to stand near the door. "Good. Can't sell that one." Kelly looked around again. "You said your bosses like to have an aesthetically pleasing household, yes?" the man nodded.

"Indeed, though we are in need of lesser workers as well." Kelly shifted around, tilting his head to look through the lines of people. His gaze locked onto Lovino, and he grinned.

"I have a few in mind, then." Kelly said cheerfully as he strode forwards. Unwilling to approach the pirate, the other prisoners parted quickly as Kelly reached him, seized him by the hair and yanked him forward. Lovino stumbled, biting back a sound of pain as Lili's hand was ripped away from his arm. The pale Xeir man examined him with interest. "Dirie was very proud of catching this one." Kelly said. The man nodded.

"I can imagine. Free Courters are so hard to come by nowadays." He looked up at Kelly. "I will take this one, definitely." Kelly grinned.

"That'll be an increased price, I hope you're aware." The man waved a hand dismissively.

"Master Kyeng will be forgiving. He likes oddities, after all. I'd be punished more if I didn't snatch up a slave like this." Before Lovino could even react, he felt the cold, unforgiving hold of steel close over his wrists as he was cuffed and hauled over to one side. The man nodded and turned back to surveying the group again. He could see Lili and Eladina staring at him desperately as the man picked out a Jhobrasian man, a dark-skinned girl and a few others out of the group. Lovino had just about given up hope when Kelly spoke again.

"Right. Any others?" the man hummed, and examined the group again. His eyes fell on Lili and Eladina, still clinging fearfully to each other. He made a dismissive noise, pointing at them.

"Those two as well, I suppose. The frizzy-haired girl and the blond boy." He said, sounding thoroughly disinterested. It was good that the man was immediately distracted by Kelly's bartering, because Lovino doubted it was normal for slaves to look relieved to get sold. Eladina and Lili hurried over to his side, suppressing smiles of relief as they both latched onto his arms again. He tuned back into the conversation Kelly was having with the man when he heard himself get mentioned.

"-Syhvvanians are hard to come by, you know that." Kelly said, smiling cordially. "50 million at the very least." Lovino felt an odd shudder go down his spine. If they only knew that he was worth 1200 times that much on the Index. He kept quiet as he listened to them go back and forth. Sold. He was being _fucking sold_ like livestock.

"45 million." Kelly said. "That's as low as I'm willing to go." The Xeir man huffed, but nodded.

"Fine, 45." The man snapped. "Add it to the tally." After Kelly did so, entering the exorbitantly large number into a small machine, the pirate smiled in satisfaction.

"It's 150 mil for the lot, thank you kindly." The Xeir man scanned through a card effortlessly, not looking bothered by how massive the number was. Kelly held out a hand as the machine beeped, confirming the payment. "Pleasure doing business with you. I'm always keen to sell to the Im family, if they're ever looking for more servants in the future." The man nodded, shaking Kelly's hand briefly.

"I know, pirate." He jerked his head at the group as a man dressed in a dark cloth uniform entered the room. "Escort them out."

Lovino felt his heart sink as they were marched out of the ship. They might have been freed from Kelly's hold, but he couldn't help but feel that their new situation was going to be far, far worse.


	30. The Theory of Negativity

**Hello all! Thank you to those who reviewed the last chapter, I'm glad you all enjoyed it! I am sorry to say this, but I am starting to get hounded in by work for uni and other commitments. Next week's update is a maybe at best. I thought you all deserved a fair warning.**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Feliciano finally arrived at the resistance and met Yao, whose behaviour continues to get stranger and stranger.**  
 **\- Matthias entered Lukas' recurring nightmares after touching him and witnessed his parents being brutally murdered. He comforted Lukas afterwards.**  
 **\- Lovino, Eladina and Lili all got sold to a rich family after Lovino disguised Lili as a boy.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Discussions about human trafficking and slavery, and some very mild sexual references**  
 **\- The usual rootin-tootin foul-ass language**

 **Enjoy! Please review!**

* * *

 _"The Slave Garden"  
Nayong City, Xexei,  
29th Juillat_

Lovino looked around as they were hauled off Kelly's ship. Lili and Eladina were still pressed close to him, eyes darting suspiciously. He inhaled as they stepped out onto the metal walkways spanning the ship docks. He could smell tobacco and oil and rain. Squinting into the distance, he spotted rows of tall buildings, with the smaller ones strung with electrical wires and rudimentary clotheslines that ran between them. He frowned. The aesthetic was familiar, but he didn't think he had ever been on this planet before.

He didn't have too much time to look around, though, as he and the others were quickly shuttled into the foyer of a large, and very lavish-looking, ship. The stern Xeir man who had facilitated their purchase spun around, facing them harshly. Everyone fell silent almost immediately, watching him with bated breath.

"As of now, you are all the property of Master Kyeng Im and the Im Noble House proper." He said sharply, scraping a judgemental over them all. "You are slaves, rightfully traded and bought by myself on behalf of the Im Family. You are to be servile at all times, lest you be punished for insubordination and disobedience." His gaze narrowed in on Lovino. "I care not what your lives were like before now. Forget them. You are now the treasured objects of Master Kyeng." Lovino's lip curled, but he didn't say anything. The man picked up a tablet and electronic pen, scrutinising them. "You are all to be photographed. Tell me your names."

He went down the line quickly as Lovino tried to think of an alias he responded to easily enough. He could see Lili, a few people down from him, looking a little worried. He hoped that she didn't accidentally tell the man her real name by mistake. When the glaring Xeir man stepped up to Lovino, he resisted the urge to scowl directly into the small camera, instead settling for the most aggressive yet neutral expression that he could pull off.

"Name?" the man drawled. Lovino scowled.

"Luciano." He lied easily. The man didn't ask for a surname – saints knew he didn't care – and continued down the line. Lovino sucked in a nervous breath as he reached Lili, but she seemed to have calmed down a little.

"Name?" the man snapped. Lili flinched slightly, but when she spoke, her voice had been deepened slightly, as he had told her to do.

"Julian." She said, not looking too perturbed by the falsehood as the man nodded and moved on. Lovino gave her a subtle thumbs-up when the man had his back turned, and she smiled at him. The smile fell from her face the minute the man turned back to them, and Lovino swallowed his momentary relief as they were escorted into another room. He managed to grab Lili's wrist as they entered, and she scurried to his side looking marginally less frightened.

"Nice job coming up with an alias." He breathed to her, ensuring that the man didn't hear. Lili shrugged slightly.

"It wasn't hard, I just used my broth-" she cut herself off, eyes wide and expression a little guilty. Lovino blinked in surprise. He could tell what the rest of that sentence was going to be. He squeezed her shoulder, playing it off as no big deal even as his mind buzzed absently.

So, Julian Keller. Vash certainly wouldn't be happy that he knew that. It certainly wasn't as fear-inducing as his alias. At the very least, he now had something to hold over the assassin's head if he so required.

They were all shunted into a room which Lovino quickly recognised as a shower block. Blessedly for Lili's sake, they were all individual cubicles. He found a pile of rough clothing shoved into his arms along with a few basic toiletries. The sharp command 'clean yourself up' was hurled in his face as he scurried into one of the cubicles. Lovino didn't even need a threat of bodily harm hanging over his head. It had been weeks since he'd gotten to shower properly and the feeling of being able to scrub grime from his skin was borderline orgasmic.

It was good to remove the last stubborn remnants of black dye from his hair as well. He took a moment to scrape dirt out from under his fingernails. He had been gritty and grimy for the last few weeks, and being clean again was unspeakably welcome. He quickly dried himself off and tugged on the clothes he'd been handed, which consisted of a white cotton shirt and brown, three quarter pants, along with a simple jacket that matched them. They were servant's clothes, but he didn't care too much.

He glanced around and located Lili again in the group, feeling concern set in as they were all ushered towards a smaller ship, one meant for rapid travel. He wracked his brain for anything that he knew about the Im Family as they were shoved onboard. The sight of Xeir symbols on billboards confirmed his suspicions that they were on Xexei. Hell, the mass trading of slaves should have been his first clue. Even though it wasn't too near the centre of the Union, Xexei was known as the 'slave capital of the Galaxy' for a reason.

He had heard about the Im Family in passing, but nothing in depth. They, like countless other families, were Xeir nobles who maintained a massive horde of wealth through commerce, stocks and trading. They were economic heavyweights, but that was about the limit of Lovino's knowledge. He didn't know how many people there were in the family, or where they lived, and perhaps most damningly, he had no idea how they treated their slaves. Some Xeir noble families were kind to their slaves. Others were known for drawing guns and shooting them whenever they got a little bored.

Lovino felt a shudder pass through his system as the last people were shoved up, into the ship. A loud whirring rang out, and the doors slammed shut, the ship hurtling into the air a moment later. From what the man who had bought them for the Ims had said, the leader of the household seemed to be a man named Master Kyeng. He couldn't tell if the man's attitude was born of legitimate adoration or fear. Was he so keen to please this Master that he didn't allow room for any failures, or was he so afraid of retribution for mistakes that he acted like a perfectionist? The distinction was an incredibly important one, but Lovino couldn't make it right now, which was worrying.

They all stood, silent and tense, for maybe half an hour as the ship hurtled into the unknown, taking them to their new, legal owners. Lovino felt repulsed by the very concept that he was now legally owned by another person. Xexei had always done a lot of trade with Syhvva, but the two planets had kept a careful distance because of the mutual dislike there. Xexei thrived on slavery and Syhvva outlawed it. It was amazing that none of Lovino's predecessors had gone to war with Xexei. It would have been a foolish move to do so; Xexei was incredibly rich, but tensions had always been high with them.

The ship tilted it's nose downwards and Lovino felt his stomach sinking accordingly. He felt like he was about to jump into a pit blindfolded, and he didn't know whether said pit held rattlesnakes or puppies. His gut was churning, but he hid his emotions behind a careful mask. Showing fear only encouraged cruelty, in some people.

They were escorted off the ship and into the front yard of possibly the most extravagant building Lovino had ever seen, save perhaps the palace on Syhvva. The estate they were on must have been massive, but he hardly got to admire the stunning view before they were being shoved forwards, across an impossibly long main driveway leading up to the huge estate. Lovino observed what he could as they walked. The house was massive, made of white stone with an elegant façade. It didn't come across as traditionally Xeir at all, but that didn't make it any less impressive. The house seemed to spread on forever, rooms and walkways weaving through the large gardens on either side of the driveway. The gardens themselves were lovely, filled with carefully clipped and pruned trees and shrubs. He could see that they seemed to stretch on forever. He tried not to shake his head in disbelief. Just how exorbitantly rich were these people?

They eventually came to the house itself, which loomed a good four storeys high above them. Rather than entering through the main entrance, however, they were escorted around the side, where there was a smaller, chestnut wood set into the wall. Of course, Lovino thought bitterly. Why would you walk property through the front door?

They emerged from the door in a large kitchen. It was a maze of steel and stone countertops, and the ceiling hung heavy with huge bronze pots and hanging baskets of spices and herbs. Lovino openly gaped for a moment before being shoved forwards again. A young woman with dark hair and olive skin who looked maybe 27 or so was standing near the door, watching them all calmly. The man who had bought them all shoved a collection of papers into her hand and marched off. The woman cleared her throat, immediately gaining everyone else's attention.

She stepped forwards, shuffling the papers.

"Good day. I am Rosalinde." She said, tone clear but not authoritative. "I am the head chef in the Im household, and I am also responsible for the splitting of duties." She surveyed them all, her gaze catching on Lovino momentarily as she blinked in shock before shaking off her surprise and moving on. "You are now all a part of the Im household. Your duty is to serve the Im family and their estate to the best of their ability. Any failure to do so will be met with reasonable punishment." Lovino felt a shiver go down his spine at that.

"Your tasks will range from cooking, cleaning, gardening and personal assistance to the Im Family, including anything else that they may ask of you. Your absolute obedience and submission are expected in this regard. You will be informed of the rules concerning certain tasks, parts of the house and members of the family as you come to them. I would not recommend stepping out of line."

Her tone was so strong on the last line that Lovino felt his stomach churning. It sounded like a warning. Rosalinde cleared her throat and continued.

"The Im family, if you are unaware, consists of Master Kyeng, Mistress Ha-yoon and Misters Ji-Ho and Yong Soo. You will defer to them in that order. Any requests they make automatically override commands given by another member of staff." She eyed them all. "You will be oriented to the household in the next week. The Im family is currently on holiday on Yan. They will return on the 7th of Augynt, and I expect you all to be able to serve with finesse by that day."

They all murmured their agreement reluctantly, and Rosalinde nodded to herself. "Now," she said, eyes glittering, "let's begin."

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
1st Augynt_

"May I ask why you look so deep in thought this lovely morning?" Emilia's head jerked up as the question registered in her mind, and she spun around to face Leon, who was frowning slightly. She sighed, planting her hands on her hips and biting her lip. She and Leon hadn't been friends for very long, but she found herself always at ease around the Yanish boy.

"I have someone important to meet today." She said. "Yao has decided against giving me specifics, so I really don't know what to expect." Leon hummed, jamming his hands into the pockets of the black pants he was wearing.

"That's a bit of a dick move, but I suppose he really loves secrecy, huh?" Emilia nodded, smiling as she remembered the precautions that had been laden on her when she and Lukas had first arrived at the resistance. Her smile faltered a little as her absent older brother came to mind. She was glad that he was able to go to Fynkn and fight, really. He had spoken about doing so for years and she was happy on his behalf, even if she personally didn't feel quite ready to go back to her home planet. But him getting what he wanted didn't mean that she didn't miss him still.

Her whole life after the Expansion, she and Lukas had been glued to each other's sides. They had confided everything to one another. She felt infinitely closer to Lukas than she ever had to their parents. Granted, her parents were dead, so they didn't have much of a say in the matter, but Lukas had been so much more than a big brother over the last eleven years. He had been her companion, protector and best friend since she was five years old. He had made sure she felt safe, and shrugged off his own discomfort to make sure she was educated about different things.

Being away from him was strange, she wouldn't hesitate to say that, but it felt childish to say that she missed him as much as she did. She loved the people she had befriended at the resistance. Tori was a friend like none other, Matthew and Tino were wonderful and even Leon had very quickly grown on her, but no-one here could quite relate to how she felt with her brother gone.

She voiced this to Leon, who nodded thoughtfully for a moment.

"That makes a lot of sense." The older teen said. "I mean," he flushed and lowered his voice so much that Emilia had to strain to hear it, "I see Arthur as a brother but he's still here. He's distracted with Alfred and all, but I still see him a bunch." Emilia smiled, elbowing Leon gently.

"Aww, don't look so embarrassed! I think it's sweet that you and Mei care about him so much." Leon had explained his past and his strange relationship with Arthur to her, and it honestly touched her heart that even a snarky pirate known for being ruthless could have such a soft spot. Leon flushed even redder.

"Yeah, don't tell him that. He would never let it go. Besides," Leon said, shaking off his embarrassment a little, "he has biological siblings anyway. He doesn't need any adoptive ones." Emilia made a face at him.

"Hey now, you know Arthur adores you and Mei. He might not say it, but he does." Leon looked over at her, eyebrow quirked.

"Oh? You so sure about that?" Grinning, Emilia tapped the side of her head.

"Mind magic, remember? I'm sure." Leon actually looked a little touched by that, and they fell silent as they walked together. She sighed. "Well, I should head off and find out what Yao is so excited about." She threw him a smile. "See you later?" Leon grinned at her, nodding. Waving, she headed into the tent Yao had told her to find her way to. To her surprise and delight, Tori was waiting there too.

The Daernic princess brightened up immensely and darted over to Emilia, hugging her with a grin. Emilia smiled. Her friend had been rather occupied with her new boyfriend in the last few weeks, but she didn't blame her in the slightest. Tori had been head over heels for Feliks for almost as long as Emilia had known her, and it gave her a lot of joy to see that they were working out even better as a couple than they had as close friends. The two had been lost in their own little romantic bubble for the last few weeks, but seemed to have finally, bashfully emerged.

"Good to see you again." Emilia joked warmly. "I was afraid I'd never see you not attached to Feliks again." Tori blushed and groaned.

"Ahh, I'm sorry! I know I should have come to see you more often." Tori scratched the back of her neck, face red. "I was just…" Emilia waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"…occupied?" she suggested. Tori laughed, nodding.

"Yeah, occupied." She said. Emilia didn't know Feliks Lukasiewicz very well, but he was already in her good books. Anyone who could make Tori look so happy and free was someone she could respect. That being said, Emilia and Tori were friends, so as happy as she was for her friend, she felt the need to do a bit of well-warranted teasing.

"So…have you two… _you know_ ~" she trailed off suggestively. Tori turned red again and smacked her arm.

"Emilia! You shouldn't be asking about that sort of thing." She muttered, face red. Emilia raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me? I'm only three years younger than you." Tori rolled her eyes.

"Irrelevant." She said. "And no, for your information. We've only been dating for three weeks!" Emilia gave her a look.

"Yeah, like that means anything nowadays. You honestly think Alfred and Arthur didn't bone the second they had the chance? My, Tori, you're so naïve." Tori smacked her, grinning. "And not having done it yet does not indicate a lack of willingness to, indeed, _do it_." Tori flushed, and Emilia knew she had hit upon truth there. She nudged her teasingly as the tent flap swung open and Yao wandered in.

Emilia frowned in mild concern when she saw Yao. She respected and liked the rebel leader quite a lot, just as her brother did, but he didn't look entirely right today. His hair and clothes were clean but unkempt. Yao's hair, piled on top of his head in a knot rather than in it's usual braid or ponytail, had numerous loose strands falling free. His clothes also looked a messy, like he had thrown them on without regard for whether or not they looked orderly.

She knew that Yao had personal issues that he struggled with, but it was really only in the last month or two that she had really noticed his own self-care really plummeting in terms of frequency and quality. Tori didn't seem as concerned as Emilia felt, blinking in surprise but almost immediately relaxing again. Yao nodded, eyes skimming over them and just as quickly darting away.

"Oh, you're both here. Good." He jerked his head to the side. 'Follow me."

Emilia and Tori exchanged a look but followed him out of the tent. Emilia let her abilities graze ever so slightly over Yao's mental state and felt herself recoil slightly in shock. His head was a jumble of disconnected thoughts and feelings, a confusing mess that would take years to sort through. She felt her frown deepen. She didn't want to overstep her boundaries and ask what was wrong, but she could tell the General had a lot of nasty things going on in his head right now.

Her concerns about Yao were dashed the minute they stepped into another tent, though, and she laid eyes on the young man seated by the wall, who looked up in surprise. He looked about her own age, if a year or so older. He was Syhvvanian, she noticed that right away, too. He had vibrant red hair, lightly sunbrowned skin and large, golden eyes. It was the eyes that caught her. She knew those eyes. She had spent a lot of time with their owner when she was a kid and her older brother was off playing.

"Feliciano?" she blurted out in shock. The boy blinked in surprise, but she could see recognition in his eyes too as Tori let out a shocked gasp behind her.

"Umm." He got to his feet, wringing his hands and looking at them uncertainly. "Yes?" Emilia blinked at him in shock for a moment before she felt a smile spreading across her face.

"Do you remember me?" she asked, taking a step forward. Feliciano looked at her, and she saw him smile ever so slightly and nod. Grinning genuinely now, Emilia skirted around a small table in the way, darted over to him and hugged him. "It's good to see you again." She said, voice muffled somewhat by his shirt as he reciprocated the hug. She pulled away, grinning as Tori also darted over, smiling, and joined in on the hugging business.

Emilia felt her stomach drop slightly as she remembered something rather crucial. Feliciano, of course, had an older brother, who was currently nowhere to be seen. She frowned.

"What…what about Lovino?" she asked. Feliciano flinched, sighing sadly. Tori laid her hand on Feliciano's arm, frowning in concern.

"He got kidnapped and sold to pirates." He said, sounding despondent. "I don't know where he is right now." Emilia sucked in a breath. Saints, did she feel pathetic for missing her brother now. The corners of Tori's mouth turned down in sympathy. Yao spoke up from behind them.

"We've sent out scouters for Lovino, so they'll hopefully find him soon." Emilia nodded. "For now, though, I think it's in everyone's best interest to get Feliciano settled in while we look for his brother." Tori grinned again, whirling around to face Feliciano again.

"Of course! Oh! Can he join in my lessons?" Feliciano blinked in confusion.

"Lessons?" he parroted, looking bewildered. Tori smiled at him.

"Well I got a nasty knock to the head right after the Expansion, so I unfortunately forgot a lot about Daerna and the Free Courts and even my own powers." She shrugged. "So, I've been getting lessons in all of the above for the last few months. You should come join in! Even if you don't need them, it'd be good to have company!" Feliciano looked a little surprised, but he smiled and nodded.

"I mean, Lovino told me a lot, but it was hardly an exhaustive guide." He smiled at her. "It sounds useful." Emilia grinned.

"In that case, I might come along too. Lukas told me absolutely everything about Fynkn but hey, it'll be fun to see you guys know absolutely nothing." Tori smacked her arm again, but Feliciano smiled cautiously. Emilia felt her mood soar. She didn't know too much about Feliciano right now other than what she remembered from when they were children, but she swore that she would make sure he didn't end up in too deep here.

* * *

 _Tebbi Rak,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
2nd Augynt_

Lukas huffed in exertion, tossing his head back as the wind stubbornly hurled his hair into his eyes, trying to tilt his face away from the frigid air raking it's way across his exposed features and focus on the slippery, steep rock wall he was currently trying to scale. He grunted in displeasure, glancing up. It wasn't too high a ledge; standing at about ten metres high, it wasn't even half the height of the wall he and Tino had scaled while breaking into Xi Lan Ey. The main problem here was the wind and the ice coating the jagged rocks.

Lukas muttered out a sharp curse as his hand slipped on a patch of slick ice and he scrabbled for another handhold.

"Keep your wits about you, Christensen!" he heard Ros call cheerfully from below him. He shot her a look, not even sure that she saw it as he forced himself to keep moving upwards. They needed to scale this small but perilous ledge in order to get to the place where their first official checkpoint was. Malin had commented that it was common for squads with newer members to reach checkpoints later than scheduled, but as she had observed a few days ago, he, Matthias and Sigurd were pulling their weight well; they were right on time to get to the checkpoint.

They had only been in the squad and out in Fynkn's wilds for about ten days, but it had made for an interesting experience. Their days had been filled with conversation muttered in low voices, careful examinations of the surrounding, snow-blanketed landscape and scarce opportunities to stop and rest. Nights had been marked by Malin's weary updates on their progress and silent periods of eating before they all traipsed off to sleep. Lukas had gotten to know his squadmates a lot better over the last ten days, which was a bonus.

Ros Viktorsen was an interesting woman, he would never say otherwise. She had decided to instigate a conversation with him about the viability of surviving on nothing but cheese and milk. Ros, who was lactose intolerant, had seemed unaffected when he had dryly informed her that eating only dairy – which she couldn't digest – would likely not spell out a fruitful future for her health-wise. She was an engaging conversationalist, that was for sure. As Malin's second-in-command, it wasn't uncommon to see her cheerfully talking to their more stoic captain. She reminded him a little of Matthias, honestly, with how unflappably happy she was at all times.

Sigurd Janvik was as friendly but mildly timid as he had been back at Blå Ren. He seemed to be uncomfortable whenever he was around Hans, which was a feeling Lukas could relate to, and had increasingly been gravitating towards the side of Lukas' shy second cousin, Birgitte. He was always helpful, and tended to seem a little in awe of Lukas' fighting ability, even though they had both made it to the semi-finals of the knockout fights. He was a little more studious than the others seemed to be. It made Lukas wonder what things had been like for him in Block A, as a barracks full of those who tended to value brawn over brains. It was incredibly refreshing to meet someone who valued them equally.

Though he had been cautious of interacting with his second cousins, Birgitte and Faena so far hadn't seemed to have paid him too much mind. As one of the quieter and most withdrawn of their entire squad, he blended into the background a little, which was exactly what he wanted. Faena was quite outgoing, so she did talk to him on occasion, but Birgitte seemed content to stick solidly to her twin's side and not talk to the others unless made to do so. As Lukas had discovered, they were very new to the squad as well. The leader of the Fynknian rebel movement, Galina Hansen, hadn't wanted them on the field because they were the closest thing to royalty that Fynkn had had at the time. Of course, most people presumed that Lukas and Emilia were dead by now, so it was a fair view. It only reinforced Lukas' confidence in Yao's decision to keep his identity secret, though. If Kommandor Hansen knew who he was, he would never be permitted to go within a hundred kilometres of a warzone.

Nina Jensen was unusually loud and chatty for a sniper, but she was good at what she did. She was no Tino, but then, Tino was widely considered the deadliest sniper in the Galaxy. No-one was as good as he was. Still, she made for a friendly companion. She was very talkative, but Lukas often found that he could engage in a conversation with her just fine if he kept his mouth shut and nodded every once and then. What she had to say was often very interesting, though, so he didn't find himself zoning out when he spoke with her. Nina was a very tactile person, and she had a habit of grabbing people's arms, smacking them playfully and even hugging people from behind. She hadn't held back from this habit with Lukas, but the one difference between when she did it to him versus when she did it to everyone else, Lukas had noticed, was that he received a glare from Hans, where the others did not.

Hans Aakovik didn't sit well with Lukas, and it wasn't just from the odd first impression he had gotten off him. He had shrugged that off soon after meeting the guy. It was everything he had done since that rubbed him the wrong way. He had a rather possessive attitude concerning Nina, and though he never told his girlfriend to not talk to or spend time with certain people, he did glare at people who seemed to make her smile and laugh more than usual. Unfortunately for Lukas, Nina loved his dry, dark humour and frequent sarcasm, which made him a frequent focus of these glares.

He wasn't being helped by the fact that Nina had adopted the habit of calling him 'cute', grabbing his hand and swinging it back and forth whenever she walked beside him, and kissing him on the cheek whenever she ran off to do something else. Lukas had no clue why she was so tactile with him especially, but he really wished he could express to Hans that he had no control over Nina's behaviour. If Hans was insecure about his relationship with his girlfriend, that was his problem, not Lukas'.

Hans also just came off as a bit of an asshole. Granted, Lukas was biased because Hans already seemed to dislike him and didn't bother hiding that fact, but he could be unnecessarily cruel to the others as well. He had made a rather sharp remark to Birgitte that had Sigurd jumping to her defence, surprising not least because Sigurd seemed to like staying out of other people's business. He seemed to disrespect Malin more than the others did, and had no qualms about complaining loudly about their conditions. Lukas couldn't understand why Nina chose to be with the surly grenadier, and that wasn't any sort of expression of interest on his part, but more a concern for Nina's wellbeing. Being around someone who had so little respect and compassion for other people couldn't be good for you.

But he tried not to get involved; their relationship had nothing to do with him, which was something he wished Hans would realise already. He sighed, shaking away thoughts of his squad as he hauled himself upwards even further. Looking now, he only had two metres or so left to climb, which was a relief like none other.

Scrambling up onto the small ledge just below the top, though, he frowned when he noticed that all of the rock that he could reach was sheer, smooth ice. Blinking in surprise, his expression morphed into a frustrated scowl. Brilliant. How the hell was he supposed to climb up this?

He heard a scrabbling noise behind him and felt his mood worsen as Hans hauled himself over the ledge. The older man quickly seemed to deduce the situation, and gave Lukas a nasty look.

"What's the problem, Christensen? Too short to reach?" Hans said, smiling cruelly before easily reaching up to the closest handholds and yanking himself up. "That's a shame. Tell me when you manage to grow taller than 5'8''." Lukas scowled even more, but didn't say anything. Their checkpoint, Tebbi Rak, was just over the ridge, and he knew for a fact that Malin was watching who managed to get up first. He sighed, running his hands through his hair and pacing in frustration as he considered his options.

He heard more noise behind him and turned as Matthias hauled himself over the ledge below and groaned, letting his head fall back as he stared up at Lukas from the ground.

"Oh, hey Lukas. Can I quit yet?" he panted. Lukas restrained himself from rolling his eyes, just folding his arms and frowning at the last wall.

"Not yet, unfortunately." Matthias made a complaintive noise but scrambled back to his feet. The bounty hunter hesitated, looking at Lukas.

"So, are you just having a lot of fun staring at that wall or what?" he asked after a moment. Lukas sighed.

In all honesty, he had been trying to avoid Matthias a little ever since the whole nightmare incident. It wasn't that he was afraid of condemnation or mockery from the older man – Matthias' actions right after that disaster had been proof enough that he wasn't the type to do so, but Lukas still felt a degree of uncertainty. He didn't know how to feel about Matthias knowing what had been driving pain into his core since they'd arrived back on Fynkn. Lukas, to put it simply, wasn't a sharer.

Over the course of his life, he could successfully say that there were only three people who he had ever disclosed deeply personal things to, and those people had been Lovino, Emilia and most recently, Kari. Respectively, they had been his best friend, sister and close companion during childhood. Matthias, a tall and overly optimistic bounty hunter forced to look after him while they were on Fynkn, didn't exactly seem to fit effortlessly into that list. In the last eleven years of his life, Lukas had constrained the vast majority of his trust to his sister. Even making friends felt strange, though he had somehow managed well enough on Nyma and even here to a small extent.

He could agree now that he and Matthias were friends, but it still felt bizarre beyond belief for Matthias to know things that he hadn't even disclosed to Emilia or Kari yet. He knew the bounty hunter would keep his mouth shut – even if he hadn't promised to do so already and Lukas didn't have the ability to make the blond forget what he saw, Matthias was honestly such a compassionate and genuine person that Lukas knew he wouldn't do something like that – but that didn't stop his odd wariness.

Perhaps it was the way Matthias had responded to his dilemma. He had been greeted with such a physical and unfalteringly _warm_ response that it had thrown him for a loop. He wasn't used to being hugged, and though he would rather die than admit it out loud, Matthias was a very good hugger. Even in a hostile environment with his emotions running high and a nightmare on loop in his head, he had felt oddly safe with Matthias that night.

Perhaps some of his reluctance to talk to the bounty hunter was guilt on his own part. The expression he had seen on Matthias' face right after they had both been torn from the dream had been an expression of horror and nausea and sorrow. He had never seen a look like that on Matthias' face before, and the only thing that had registered in his mind at the time was that he never wanted to be the cause of a look like that again. Matthias was so happy all the time that it just felt wrong to see him look so raw and disturbed.

He pushed the thoughts away, zoning back in just in time to see Matthias giving him a sidelong look. Lukas sighed. He loathed asking for help, and he loathed admitting to weakness or a shortcoming even more, but he was too short to reach the lowest handholds, and unless his body had been holding out on a sudden, noticeable growth spurt, he would need help getting up the wall. Shoving down the resentment he felt at even asking, Lukas gestured at the wall.

"I'm too short to reach the next handholds." He said, tone clipped and bitter. Matthias blinked, glancing between him and the wall before nodding.

"Ahh, I see. You want help?" Lukas sighed deeply before nodding. Matthias grinned. "You're making it look like asking for help is as painful as pulling teeth." Lukas shot him a look.

"It is." He said miserably. Matthias laughed, and the warm sound dispelled some of the misery seated in his chest.

"You're so overdramatic." The bounty hunter teased before approaching him. "Drop your pack, I'll throw it up after you." Lukas complied, slipping the heavy bag off his shoulder as Matthias also dumped his on the ground. He raised an eyebrow at the blond.

"And now?" he inquired. Matthias nodded at the wall.

"Get closer to it, for a start." Huffing, Lukas approached it, reaching out a hand to absently scratch at the ice. Matthias walked up behind him, examined the wall, nodded, and promptly grabbed Lukas by the waist before lifting him into the air. Lukas' yelp of surprise was cut off by Matthias' sound of concern. "Dude, you are far too light. Eat more." Lukas scowled as he reached up and managed to close his hand over the handhold. He tightened his grip as Matthias boosted him higher, pressing his boot-covered feet against the wall to maintain his position and forcing his focus back to the wall when his shirt rode up slightly and Matthias' hands shifted onto his bare skin.

"No matter how much I eat, I don't seem to gain any weight, actually." He said as Matthias' warm hands slipped away from his waist and he hauled himself over the ledge within a few seconds. He looked down at Matthias, who was looking up at him with a small amount of surprise.

"You must have fucking incredible core muscles to just yeet yourself up there like that." Matthias piped up, reaching up a hand and jokingly poking at Lukas' abdomen. As Lukas tried to shift away, his shirt slid up again a little and he found Matthias' warm fingers brushing gently over the toned muscles of his lower stomach. "Damn bro, you lift?" Lukas smacked Matthias's hand away. Still grinning, the bounty hunter tossed him his bag, and then threw his own up onto the top before launching himself at the wall and scrambling up. Lukas watched him struggle to get up the last little bit of the ledge with amusement before rolling his eyes and offering a hand. Providing help should be mutual, after all.

Matthias accepted it, bounding up a little too enthusiastically and ending up acquainting his foot with a patch of slippery ice, which quickly resulted in him ending up flat on his face. Unfortunately, since he had been getting helped up by Lukas, he managed to knock him down as well, and ended up with his face planted in Lukas' stomach, easily winding him.

Lukas struggled to get air back into his lungs as Matthias apologised and propped himself up on his elbows. Lukas glared down at the grinning blond, kicking feebly at the bounty hunter's chest, which did little to deter the wide grin on Matthias' face. The now-cackling man rolled off him after a moment, and Lukas wisely chose to get to his feet by himself, scooping up his bag and slinging it onto his back.

He blinked in surprise as he turned to find his way to the checkpoint. From the point they were at, he could see a stretch of snow-blanketed land stretching out before him, dotted with the thick coniferous forests they had been travelling through for the last few days. He could see a huge, silver lake in the far distance, the surface glittering under the blood-stained, sunset sky. Matthias let out a low whistle.

"You know, this planet is an icy hell when it comes to weather, but damn if it isn't beautiful too." The bounty hunter said. Lukas found himself nodding along absently, enraptured by the view for a moment before shaking himself back to his senses and cautiously making his way down the small gully that lay beyond the rock wall to where he could see Malin, Hans, Nina and Faena already waiting. Hans made a face when he saw Lukas, but Nina grinned widely at him and waved enthusiastically. It made Hans scowl even more, but did wonderful things to boost Lukas' mood.

Malin smiled at them and nodded. "Ahh, you two have made it, good. Looks like we're just waiting on Ros, Sigurd and Birgitte then." Lukas noticed that there was a woman standing nearby, near a small lean-to that must have been the checkpoint. Lukas observed her curiously.

She wasn't wearing rebel garb, so she probably wasn't a field soldier. Her hair was pure black, unlike most Fynknians, but he could see that her eyes were a shockingly pale shade of blue. She was blind, he realised with a shock. She was wearing a large, heavy robe-like garment made of animal fur which left her forearms exposed. He could see curling dark tattoos swirling up her skin.

Malin noted Lukas' curiosity and explained after Ros, Sigurd and Birgitte had appeared from the ridge and stumbled over to the rest of them.

"This is Synnøve. She's a priest of the Sjela." He heard several gasps, and saw outright bewilderment on Matthias' face. Seeing Matthias' lack of understanding, Malin elaborated. "The royal family of our planet possess an ability known as the _Sjeltanker_. It allows them dominion over the minds of others. The Sjela are an order of priests who study the ancient origins of the _Sjeltanker_. With extensive training, they themselves can adopt some of the abilities of the _Sjeltanker_. It was with the same training that the first Bondeviks gained the ability, before it became hereditary." She nodded at Synnøve. "They're an ancient order, and a very well-respected one on Fynkn."

Synnøve nodded. "We are an old order, but we still have our tricks. Our power is nothing to that of the royal family, but we can do a few things." She smiled slightly. "I volunteered to act as a guide to those passing through Tebbi Rak a long time ago." She turned to Malin. "Go to the east, to a town named Mankjer. Our forces are gathering in the far east, so stay in that direction until you come by a city by the sea."

"City by the sea…" Ros muttered as she pulled her map and compass from her coat and examined them both for a moment. "…Do you refer to Jostenberg?" Synnøve nodded. Malin murmured something to Ros and the spunky girl began jotting something down. Malin bowed deeply to Synnøve.

"Thank you, priestess."

"Before you go." Synnøve spoke up. "I am willing to read you all, if you so desire."

Sigurd looked ready to faint with excitement. Lukas felt his stomach turn. It was an honour, a huge honour, to be 'read' by a Sjelan Priestess, but he knew she would find a few interesting things if he let her. At Matthias' confused look, Malin explained again.

"Sjelan Priests can have a small amount of mastery over precognition and the mind if they train for long enough. They can predict your future and help you work through your troubles. If you don't mind sharing a bit of information about yourself, that is. All they need to do is touch your wrist." Matthias looked intrigued, but also a little cautious. Lukas bit back a curse. Couldn't they just go east already? They had come here to be given their next instructions, and they had received them. Why did this Sjelan Priestess have to be so kind?

Ros went first, at Malin's bidding, and received a few simple warnings that seemed fairly standard. Sigurd bounded forward with unkempt enthusiasm right after her, receiving a small bit of advice to open himself up to his squadmates more. Birgitte shuffled forward next. Synnøve smiled when she laid hands on her.

"Ahh, a distant daughter of the Crown, I see." She placed her other hand over Birgitte's. "I'd advise you to dismiss the opinions of others unless they ring useful. I can feel the tug of the tide within you, girl. Nurture your power, rather than fearing it." She murmured a few other cryptic things to Birgitte before releasing her. Hans went next, and received a stern warning about trusting the trustworthy and reserving wariness for the enemy. Nina hurried over to Synnøve after him, and received the firm but bizarre warning of "stay away from seawalls" before stepping away, looking baffled.

Malin had something about love murmured to her, which left their normally unflappable Captain flushing, before Synnøve reached for Matthias. He hesitated.

"Uhh, Priestess? I'm not Fynknian…" she inclined her head.

"And?" she stepped closer to him and wrapped her hand around his wrist. "Your friends are like wildflowers. They flourish when left alone." She tilted her head to the side, looking a little confused. "The longer you spend here, the more they will flourish." Lukas knew he didn't miss the flash of hurt that briefly passed over Matthias' face at that statement. He himself frowned. That was an odd thing to be told. Synnøve released him and paused. Lukas and Faena exchanged a look.

"Christensen? You want a turn?" Malin asked. Lukas observed Synnøve, then shook his head.

"No, thank you, Priestess." Hans scoffed.

"How can you be so disrespectful?" he spat, words soaked in hostility. Lukas turned a sharp look on him. Synnøve raised her hands.

"It is a matter of choice whether one is read or not." She said calmly. "I understand. Many people do not want to know their futures." She angled her body a little towards Faena. "And you?" Faena looked hesitant, but she stepped up and let Synnøve take her arm anyway. The Priestess frowned for a moment. "Ahh, another well of power. You're the Lindholms, then, I suppose?" Faena murmured a confirmation as the Priestess kept a hold of her wrist. "You and your sister both. Don't fear what lies within you. It may frighten you, but it does not have the capacity to kill. Ask-" Synnøve abruptly pulled her hand away, expression lost for a moment.

Faena froze, watching the Priestess as she seemed to struggle to compose herself for a moment. The woman waved off help from Malin. Faena looked pale. Synnøve took a deep breath. "My apologies. I was…not expecting what I was about to say." She took a deep breath and looked up again. "Ask your second-cousin. That is what the fates whispered to me." Faena looked a little surprised.

"Our second-cousins are dead, most likely." Faena murmured. Synnøve shrugged.

"Maybe." She said cryptically before turning to Malin. "Head to Jostenberg, via Mankjer, if you can. Be at Jostenberg within the end of the month." Malin nodded as Synnøve bowed. "Thank you for your service to our planet." Faena looked like she was dying to ask more about the last bit of information she had been given, but instead bit her lip and stayed silent as Malin thanked Synnøve again and indicated they should start moving east.

They turned their backs on the Priestess, falling into line as Lukas tried to fight the churning in his stomach.

"Come on, you two." Malin called, jerking Lukas out of a reverie. He and Matthias were the stragglers of the group, he realised. "We have to make it to Jostenberg within the next three weeks, and it's normally a five-week journey from here to there. We'll need to move as fast as possible." Lukas nodded and sped up the pace, Matthias beside him, still looking deep in thought as they trudged uncertainly onwards, towards Mankjer.


	31. The Woman on the Post

**And I'm back! I have several assignments due soon so please don't be mad if I don't update next week. I haven't got the next chapter done and I don't want to rush any of my content. Quality only, folks.**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lovino (now Luciano), Lili (now Julian) and Eladina were taken to the Im household, where they started their training as servants.**  
 **\- Feliciano finally reunited with Tori and Emilia, who have agreed to help him out and have lessons with him.**  
 **\- Lukas has managed to befriend Nina from his squad, and attract resentment from Hans, but is yet to properly connect with the rest of them. The rest of the squad got psychic readings from a priestess, who gave Matthias a troubling prediction.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- There's a lil scene of rather non-explicit sex in the first scene. If you want to avoid it or you just aren't a fan of USUK, just go down to the first line break and you'll be good.**  
 **\- Depictions of mental illness. A healthy dose of swearing, as always.**  
 **\- Graphic violence in the form of injuries and the aftermath of an act of mass murder. Tread lightly.**

 **Also happy to say that the dennor is going to start edging into romantic territory in this chapter and the next few. You're welcome!**

 **Please review to fuel my motivation for writing Chapter 32! Have a great week guys! :D**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
4th Augynt_

Alfred bit back a groan, trying and manifestly failing to suppress the countless sounds threatening to escape his throat. He forced his mouth into action to stop the sounds, raking his teeth across the warm skin under his hold as he tried not to let the sounds of stuttering, pleased panting get to his head too much. He let his hands drift down to grip sharp hips as he adjusted his flushed boyfriend's position and started to move in earnest again. Arthur had pressed his hand against his own mouth, eyes wide and pupils dilated as Alfred muttered curses with a strained voice and tried to keep the noise down.

He heard Arthur speak – a single, drawn out _"-fuck"_ before he found his mouth ripped away from the pirate's neck and connected to Arthur's own again. He moaned openly now, nipping Arthur's lips as he shifted his hips forward in a faster, stronger rhythm. The nails of Arthur's free hand were digging into his back and he focused on the small, sharp centres of pain as he returned to his previous task of sucking a hickey into the pirate's neck. Arthur still had his other hand pressed over his mouth, and Alfred wished sincerely that they didn't have to be so quiet.

Unfortunately for the two of them, their tent had recently been burdened by the horror that was being given a next-door neighbour. It had been done because of more supplies being made available for tents, so the lucky girl, who had been on a waiting list for months, finally had a place of her own. Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't have been a problem. Alfred would never have tried to be anything but considerate. The problem was that the girl lived in that tent with her inquisitive and nosy seven-year-old sister.

So, given that they hardly wanted to traumatise a small child or force her older sister to somehow dodge her way around giving 'the talk', they had refrained from engaging in any ~late night activities~ recently, primarily because they knew themselves, and each other, and they both tended, when caught up in the moment, to get a bit loud. Alfred had falsely assumed that since before meeting Arthur, he had survived so long without having sex, that he would be fine.

That hadn't been the case, and he had found himself – rather humiliatingly – absolutely _suffering_ whenever he got to see and touch the pirate but not be with him. When he had eventually admitted this to a curious Arthur, his boyfriend had simply laughed and murmured, "yes, that's called a libido, Alfred, most people have them". They had still tried to keep their hands off each other though, out of respect for their new neighbour and consideration for her small sister.

But when Alfred had woken up an hour ago, unable to sleep, and he had found Arthur also awake, both of them united in their sexual frustration, they had practically fallen on one another, descending into a frenzy to divest each other of their clothing and get their hands on as much of each other's bodies as possible. And Alfred now had to try and stay quiet while having sex that he had abstained from for almost two weeks. He bit his lip as he adjusted the positioning of his hands on the mattress to prop himself up better, burying his ragged breathing in his boyfriend's neck.

Alfred had never been a person who had devoted too much time to thinking about sex. Hell, he had been a virgin before being with Arthur, so that was proof of exactly how often he got down and dirty with other people. He had, in a weird, detached way, _wanted_ it, but had never gone out of his way to actually get it. So, when he had started to get more physically intimate with Arthur, he had been a little wary of going too fast too quickly. Arthur had never done anything but respect his boundaries, and had politely backed off whenever Alfred quietly asked him to do so. But as time had passed with them, he had found himself devoting more and more time to thinking about it.

And then, about a month ago, he had told Arthur that he wanted to take that step. He trusted his boyfriend, but he also _wanted_ him, in a way that he hadn't experienced too much up until that point. And…he had very much so enjoyed that step. Every query he'd had as to why some people were willing to give up money or dignity for a good fuck had been answered fairly quickly. Given that he and Arthur were still in what people called the 'honeymoon phase' of their relationship, they had, to put it bluntly, fucked quite a lot. The last two weeks of sudden, unwelcome celibacy had not been as simple or easy as Alfred had initially believed.

Which was why they both seemed to be going so wild right now, even when they both knew they had to keep it down or risk a nosy seven-year-old barging into their tent – as she had done in the past – and questioning them about what they were doing.

Alfred honestly could have gone on forever, but he was almost painfully aware of the dilemma with their neighbour, in addition to the fact that sunrise was swiftly approaching, and people would be moving around in this area a lot. It was almost a relief when he felt heat build up in his gut until he was pleasantly tipped over the edge. He managed to keep quiet, though Arthur let out a low moan as they both stopped moving and filled the silence with their heavy breathing as they both came down from their highs. After a few moments, Arthur gently pushed at his chest and Alfred took the cue, rolling off him and staring up at the ceiling, sighing as he carded a hand through his hair. He heard Arthur sigh in irritation and sit up.

He looked over at his boyfriend as Arthur reached over and ran a hand through Alfred's hair, looking reluctant to leave. "I should go clean up." The pirate said, sounding resigned. Alfred (very maturely) stuck his tongue out at him. Arthur chuckled but slid out of bed as Alfred sighed and snuggled further into the blankets, blinking sleepily.

* * *

Arthur had been in the midst of pulling on his boots and trying to nudge Alfred awake when his Cell chimed softly. He stilled, staring at it cautiously before reaching for it and switching it on. His stomach swooped when he saw the notification on the screen, and he shifted to grip it with both hands. He glanced over at Alfred, considering whether or not he should wake his boyfriend first, before deciding against it.

Sighing, he glanced over the message again. He really had been hoping to have a lazy morning; maybe even round two with his boyfriend if that young girl next door had chosen to wander off and explore elsewhere, but he doubted that was possible now. He scribbled out a note to Alfred explaining that he had an unexpected meeting come up, before slipping out of the tent, Cell in hand.

Arthur cracked his joints absently as he walked, and he made sure to swing by the dining hall to grab an apple and mug of coffee before he bothered to start seeking out Yao. He'd been told after the mission to the Red Pike to go to the sour leader of the resistance whenever he got an update from Barkhado on the slave the rebels were seeking out, but that hardly meant he was going to move _quickly_. He wandered through the officials' tents, glancing around to see if he could spot the familiar wry look or braided black hair. It wasn't too early for Yao to be up, he knew that at least. If Arthur was awake, Yao definitely was.

After a few minutes of searching proved fruitless, Arthur scowled, running a hand through his grey hair as he sighed, looking around. He perked up a little when he spotted Octavia leaning against a set of crates and looking through a thick binder, a piece of toast frozen halfway up it's journey to her mouth. He approached her, and had to reach out and tap her arm to get her attention. The Vice-General jumped slightly, but didn't look overtly surprised to see him.

"Oh, good morning Mr Kirkland. Did you need something?" Arthur shrugged.

"I was just looking for Yao, really." He said. Octavia hummed, then pointed over to one of the tents.

"I saw him in there last night and knowing him, if he isn't in his own tent then he hasn't moved since then." She said dryly. "If not there, then I'm not sure." Arthur nodded and murmured his thanks as Octavia turned back to her binder and Arthur marched towards the tent, pulling the flap open and ducking inside. Yao was indeed inside, but he seemed…out of it. He was mumbling to himself, but it didn't seem like the mumbling Arthur had seen the man do while working through a complex equation or some other problem. It was more like he was having a conversation with someone who wasn't there.

"…Yao?" Arthur asked cautiously. The man seemed so engrossed in nothing that it was freaking him out a little. He reached out and tugged Yao's arm, again warranting no reaction. "Yao." He said, voice louder and firmer. He felt concern tie his gut into a knot. He wasn't close to Yao, but this wasn't normal behaviour from anyone. Tossing away his uncertainties, he reached out and grabbed the man by the shoulders, shaking him. "Yao!"

Yao jerked, as if he had just woken from a dream. The haze in front of his eyes cleared, and he looked over at Arthur, blinking in surprise.

"Oh…Arthur, hello…" he said, rubbing at one of his temples. "I think I drifted off for a second…" Arthur looked at him disbelievingly. He had seen people drift off and he had seen sleep-talking, but what he had just witnessed was neither of those things. He stared at Yao for a moment, but the other man didn't look bothered at all by what had just transpired. Feeling deeply unsettled, he held out the Cell.

"Barkhado responded…she's found the slave who sent out the distress signal." Yao took the Cell, reading the message with interest before pulling out a pad of paper and a pen and jotting it down.

"Okay, so this slave is 27 years old, ethnically Lysi, and can be found in Nonpo-Sunhae." He said. "Answers to 'Linh'." He looked up at Arthur and nodded. "Thank you, Mr Kirkland, I'll let you know if I plan on involving you in this matter again." Arthur nodded as he was handed back the Cell, hesitating as he searched Yao's face for any sign that he was going to acknowledge his previous behaviour. But the leader of the resistance said nothing, and Arthur left the room with his stomach churning uncomfortably.

Alfred was awake and blinking blearily by the time Arthur had made his way back to their shared tent. His boyfriend jumped slightly, throwing him a warm smile.

"Oh, hey! I read your note. Must have been a quick meeting, huh?" Arthur blinked, nodding and trying to dispel the unease in his gut. Alfred picked up on his discomfort and frowned, sitting up properly. "Are you okay, Artie?" he asked. Arthur drew in a shaky breath and slipped across the room to him, sitting on the bed beside his boyfriend.

"I'm fine, just…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Cuddle with me?" Alfred seemed to realise there was something deeply bothering him, and didn't question it, instead just lying back on the bed and opening his arms as Arthur crawled between them and laid his head on Alfred's chest. His boyfriend's warm arms were grounding, and he felt himself relaxing into the hold. Alfred ran his fingers softly through Arthur's grey hair, and he forced himself to focus on his boyfriend's warm ministrations, trying desperately to get the thought of Yao's confused ramblings out of his head.

* * *

 _The Im Estate,  
Lesser Manju, Xexei,  
6th Augynt_

"You still aren't done with the windows? I set you that task an hour ago, this isn't good enough." Lovino bit back a particularly nasty curse as he turned to face the owner of the critical voice, the frowning assistant head of staff, Rosalinde. The tall Jhobrasian woman had her arms crossed, jerking her head disdainfully at the glass he had been cleaning. The windows in question were massive, huge crystalline panes of elaborately patterned glass that stood about seven metres tall.

The huge windows stared directly out onto the massive lawn, up the driveway where tomorrow, Lovino's legal owners would be arriving. The thought made his stomach turn, and he quickly returned his attention to Rosalinde. She had a strained look in her eye. "I told you to have these done by noon. Unless you have some remarkable speed that you've been holding out on me, I doubt you will manage that, given that you have," she checked the elegant watch wrapped around her wrist, "twelve minutes to do the upper third of these." Lovino sighed, sagging.

He had expected that being a household servant would be easier to deal with than, say, forced labour in a mine of some sort, but he had been worked to the bone just as surely here as he would have been at any physical labour position. Their hours were ridiculous – they woke at 5am and slunk off to bed at 11pm. Even with those meagre hours of sleep, though, they were expected to officially be on call all night. If the Ims so much as wanted a glass of water, they had to be ready to clamber out of bed and fetch it for them.

Their quarters weren't as bad as Lovino had feared, but still weren't too comfortable. They were set up with two to a room. Lovino had been housed with a slave who had already been owned by the family, named Henrique. Luckily for their ploy, Eladina and Lili had been housed together in the room next door. The rooms clearly weren't meant to be used for much else other than sleeping. They were fitted with two beds, a small set of drawers underneath, a loosely woven rug on the ground and a single chair at one end of the room. Henrique didn't seem too interested in Lovino, and he generally left him alone, which was a wonderful arrangement, in Lovino's own opinion.

They had been forced into wearing a uniform, too. The Im family were so exorbitantly wealthy that it only made sense that they insisted on a special uniform for all of their servants. It consisted of black pants, black boots, white long-sleeved shirts and black suspenders. Lovino hated it, but he had to admit that Eladina pulled the look off very well. They'd all been subjected to forced makeovers by other servants in the household. Lili's brutally short hair had been cut down even further and neatened up a lot. Eladina had slunk away with a frown in place after most of her long, lovely black curls had been cut away. They still let her wear her wild hair out, but it now only fell to her shoulders.

Lovino had gotten a haircut too, which he hadn't been too adverse too, actually. His hair had been getting a little too long for his liking. His ethnicity acted just as much as a point of fascination for people here as it had for prisoners on Dirie and Kelly's ships. They seemed to have recovered after a few days, but he knew that, as much as the Expansion had changed things, Free Courter slaves was still a very rare phenomenon.

The tasks he had been given in the last week had led him to collapse bonelessly into bed at the end of every day. He'd spent hours scrubbing windows and floors, cleaning pots, pans and utensils in the kitchen, making beds and replacing linen. He had been shunted into the garden to pull up weeds and water Mistress Ha-yoon's beloved winter roses, and had instructions for the tending of the vast herb and vegetable garden drilled into his brain. He had been run into the ground for days and the small amount of sleep he got wasn't helping too much.

He could see that Eladina was equally exhausted, but lucky Lili had been assigned as a kitchenhand, and she seemed to be enjoying herself so far. Since she was so small and lean, the head chef had declared that she would make an excellent kitchenhand, because she would be able to duck and dodge around people and dishes very easily. He was happy that she, at least, wasn't being worked as hard as they were, though it might as easily have been to do with her age as well. While Lovino was 20 and Eladina 18, Lili was only 14.

His alias had been fairly easy to maintain, since he had used it before, luckily. Most people seemed to have shortened 'Luciano' to 'Luce' within a few days of him arriving. Eladina had also received the nickname treatment, and most people just called her 'Ella' now. Surprisingly, Lili's borrowed name of Julian hadn't received the same treatment. He really wasn't sure how to think of that.

"I was moving as fast as I could." He sighed, really not wanting to fight Rosalinde right now. "I didn't want to sacrifice cleanliness in exchange for speed, after all."

"You should aim for both." Rosalinde said as she squinted at the glass. He felt his shoulders relax a little as he saw a sliver of begrudging satisfaction cross her face when she looked over the panes he had cleaned already. He might not have been going as fast as she wanted him to, but the glass was so spotless it looked invisible. Rosalinde spun back around to face him. Her eyes had an odd look in them. It was almost pleading. "Try and balance both efficiency and quality with speed. They're both important."

"I know, but-" he was cut off by Rosalinde.

"Are you talking back to me?" she snapped, eying him. Her eyes hadn't lost that odd look. "Never speak back to me." He bit his lip and nodded. He felt her gaze on him. "Luce." He made eye contact with her. Her face was deadly serious. "I mean it. Never speak back." He shoved down the icy feeling that doused him at her words as he swallowed thickly and nodded, bowing his head in the submissive gesture he'd been taught on his first day. Rosalinde nodded. "Good. I'll have Henrique complete the windows. Join Julian and Rashim down in the kitchens." Nodding again, Lovino abandoned his supplies by the windows and hurriedly obeyed.

He wasn't quite sure what Rosalinde's deal was, but he knew that she wasn't the sharp, snappy control freak that she presented herself as. She had been commenting on his work a lot over the last few days, and comments like the one he had just received had only increased in frequency. He knew they were thinly veiled warnings, directed at him because he was from a planet that famously opposed slavery. She was trying to help him, informing of what lines existed and exactly how easy to cross some of them were.

He had been carefully watching the staff of this house over the last few days, and what he saw frightened him somewhat. They were all obedient to a T, though that wasn't what disturbed him. Though they all wore neatly pressed uniforms and did what they were told and threw fake smiles onto their faces, there was an underlying layer of tension. He had spotted signs of marks and bruises in places that would normally have been covered by clothing on some of his colleagues, and it made him fear exactly what sort of masters the Ims were.

Rosalinde had given him a few odd warnings which in part seemed to explain the marks.

"Follow orders exactly. Deficiencies in capability are not well appreciated here."

"Punishment is to be expected in the event that a member of staff does not fulfil their duties."

"As legally purchased property of the Im family, they exercise the right to deliver any judgement or punishment on you that they deem fit."

And, perhaps the most bizarre of all the orders she had given, but the one she seemed to tout most frequently;

"Matters of the family are always best left to the family themselves. Interference will not be appreciated or tolerated."

He didn't really know exactly what she was talking about when she said that, but he did know that her tone was openly pleading when she said it, and that every member of staff looked oddly sad when she brought it up. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know. He hadn't yet even seen the family that he now belonged to, but he was dreading it.

* * *

 _7th Augynt_

Lovino didn't dare move as Rosalinde adjusted his hair and looked over his appearance again, eyes critical and sharp. He sighed in relief when he finally got her nod of approval, finally succeeding in weaselling out of her grasp. He glanced nervously at the clock. Twenty minutes until the Im family was set to return from their off-world holiday. Lili looked verifiably terrified, even though she looked stunningly boyish and not suspicious in the slightest. Eladina's thick hair had been tamed as much as possible, and she too was wringing her hands nervously. They had been dragged out of bed even earlier than usual this morning, to ensure that they were all clean and neat for their first introduction to their owners.

A small commotion from the servant posted by the window to keep a lookout told him that the family had entered the property. He swallowed, running his mind over everything he knew about the Im Family, both professionally and what tidbits he had picked up over the last week.

The Im Family were business and trade moguls, one of the wealthiest families on Xexei. They had an approximate net worth of over 2 Trillion marks, from the numerous projects they helmed. They had stakes in the stock markets of over 50 other inhabited planets, and they were essentially treated as honoured guests anywhere that currency was a thing. The patriarch of the family was Master Kyeng, who had helped to establish trade with over 10 of the family's 50 current partners, in addition to maintaining the legacy built by generations of his ancestors. His name was often followed by marked silence in the house. It didn't feel like a good silence.

Kyeng Im's wife, Ha-yoon, was a beautiful socialite, and the daughter of the patriarch of another wealthy family, the Kwons. She sounded like a kind but oblivious woman, according to staff gossip. She didn't seem to analyse anything critically, and unfortunately seemed to accept things said to her at face value. Lovino felt sorry for her. If the tense atmosphere that Kyeng's name seemed to warrant meant anything, she probably wasn't encouraged to think for herself, or do anything except smile, bat her lashes and look pretty.

The two children of Kyeng and Ha-yoon were Ji-Ho and Yong-Soo. Ji-Ho, the oldest son, was the person set to inherit everything from his father. He was highly academic, and was only 20 years old, the same age as Lovino. The one picture he had been permitted to see of the man had revealed a handsome but severe and mildly unhappy looking young man. Lovino didn't know how to approach the guy. Mentions of him were followed by an almost involuntary downwards quirk of the lip, though Lovino couldn't tell if it was a sign of pity directed at the young man or something else.

Yong-Soo was the younger son, aged just 15. He was a very excitable and friendly young man. He seemed to know all of the staff by name, according to what Lovino had heard. He was also made to be very academic, but he wasn't put under as much stress as his older brother was. It honestly sounded like they both suffered from classic perfect-child syndrome; their parents wanted them to be flawless, and the ensuing pressure and degradation would likely result in the opposite. Lovino knew how that felt. His own grandfather had acted that way.

He released a tightly pent-up breath and straightened his back. Until he could find some way to escape this place, he would have to bow and scrape and obey these people. He needed to know how to stay under the radar as much as possible while he was stuck here. Once he had completely adapted to the house, it's grounds and occupants, he could start planning how to get out of here, hopefully with Eladina and Lili in tow.

His attention snapped forwards as the front door swung open and a young servant he hadn't seen before scurried inside, followed by a group of four well-dressed people. These were the Ims.

Kyeng Im stuck out immediately. He wasn't a tall man; Lovino probably had an inch or so on him in terms of height. His expression was disinterested as he swept his gaze over them, though his eyes did linger on Lovino, and his eyebrow quirked in surprise. Other than that, he gave absolutely no indication that he found them worth paying attention to. He had classically black hair and almond-shaped golden eyes, typical of a Xeir person. His hair was twisted into an elaborate bun on top of his head, adorned with small golden accessories. He was maybe 50 or so, and Lovino could see a few streaks of grey in his long hair.

Ha-yoon was a petite woman, very slender and short. Her dark hair hung free, in loose curls that were obviously brought about by the benefit of a salon somewhere. She was very beautiful, but the look in her eyes was a little absent. Lovino kept his expression perfectly even as she looked over him in interest. He let his eyes slide sideways, to where the two children of the family were standing.

Ji-Ho was the tallest of the four, standing probably at around Lovino's own height. He had very long black hair pulled up into a high ponytail. He had a rather sullen look on his face, and though he too looked curious about the new servants, he didn't indicate so verbally or even physically. He seemed very restrained emotionally speaking. Lovino had to resist the urge to raise a curious eyebrow when he saw the right side of the guy's head. It was hard to spot, and wasn't obvious unless you looked very closely, but underneath his dark hair on that side, Lovino could see raised white scars crisscrossing over the skin. He swallowed.

Yong-Soo was a lot different to his older brother. Where Ji-Ho was dressed predominantly in dark, long clothing and stood perfectly still with his hands clasped behind his back, Yong-Soo was wearing much more colourful clothes, with a cheerful look on his face and a buzzing sort of energy about him. He was fidgeting and moving ceaselessly, and the younger teen let out an audible gasp when he spotted Lovino.

Rosalinde bowed so deeply that her few loose strands of hair nearly brushed the floor. "Master Kyeng, Mistress Ha-yoon, Mister Ji-ho, Mister Yong-Soo, may I offer you the sincerest welcome home. I hope your holiday and passage were pleasant." Kyeng nodded stiffly and removed his coat, which was immediately taken from his hands by a waiting servant.

"It was satisfactory. Thank you Rosalinde." His cold eyes shifted to them. "These are our new staff?" Rosalinde nodded.

"Yes, Master. They were bought on the 29th. I have been training them all in the conduct of the house for the last eight days." Kyeng walked around the group, surveying them.

"I see." His gaze burrowed into Lovino. "Will they all be well behaved? I would hate to see that my own staff have collected a group which would be more inclined to disobedience." Lovino didn't so much as alter his facial expression at the obvious dig. Rosalinde nodded.

"Yes, Master Kyeng. I have ensured that they are all well aware of what is expected of them, and the consequences of not abiding by those expectations." Lovino ignored the flash of vindictive pleasure in Kyeng's eyes at that statement, and further disregarded how the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"Excellent." He said, stepping away. "Well done, Rosalinde. Have them unpack our things. I trust you will continue their training?" Rosalinde nodded and gestured to some of them to go outside and do as he had bid. Lovino moved to join them, not wanting to be stared at more by this strange, cold family. Eladina darted after him as well.

"Bit of a weird family, huh?" she breathed in his ear as they stacked up luggage carefully in their arms. He nodded, thoughts drifting back to the scars on Ji-Ho's scalp and Rosalinde's cryptic warnings about not interfering in 'family matters'. He felt his stomach churn. He didn't like this one bit.

"Let's hope they don't pay us too much mind." He muttered back to her. She nodded, and with his heart hammering with dread, they marched back to the house.

* * *

 _Outside Mankjer Village,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
8th Augynt_

"So, you've really never been to Oslaholm before? That's a real shame, it sure is nice there, military occupation aside." Nina said cheerfully as they walked, turning her bright smile on Matthias as he blinked in surprise.

"Mmhmm." Matthias said, "I'll have to go at some point, I reckon. Since it's the capital and all." Nina nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! You used to live there, right Lukas? You can give us both a proper tour!" she exclaimed. Lukas nodded, glancing over at Nina and Matthias, exchanging a mildly uncomfortable look with Matthias. Nina was a lovely person, yes, but Matthias couldn't fathom how she was so oblivious to her boyfriend's blinding jealousy. The chipper, purple-haired girl had seized Lukas and Matthias' arms and hauled them to walk in the middle of their loose formation with her, chattering happily. Matthias had no problem with this per se, but he could practically feel the holes that Hans was glaring into the back of his skull.

It made him want to roll his eyes on an endless loop, and he wasn't even the focus of most of Hans' displeasure. Matthias hadn't failed to notice how tactile Nina was with Lukas, and he also hadn't failed to notice how much time Hans had devoted to glowering at the teen like it was his personal mission in life. He had no clue himself why Nina liked Lukas so much, or why she seemed to be so affectionate with him, but Nina's behaviour was hardly Lukas' fault, and it was wrong of Hans to be so angry at the person who wasn't doing anything wrong in the circumstances.

Matthias gave Lukas a sidelong look as Nina detached herself to throw both her arms around the prince's neck and bob in excitement as they walked. Lukas looked very uncomfortable with this new development, and Matthias felt a spike of something unknown go through him when Nina reached over with one hand to adjust Lukas' hair.

"Let the poor guy breathe, Nina." He said simply, smiling at the purple-haired girl when she turned to look at him. Nina blinked, then smiled and released Lukas from her grip.

"Oh, of course. Sorry if I was smothering you, honey." She said. Lukas muttered an unintelligible reply and the three of them continued to walk, with Matthias and Nina striking up a conversation about Rywan as Lukas drifted along beside them. They had been walking and talking for maybe fifteen minutes when they heard Malin calling them from behind.

"Guys! Come here, we need to regroup." They turned and jogged obediently back to where the others were gathering. Matthias saw Hans shoot Lukas another vile, twisted scowl. Lukas barely reacted, simply quirking an eyebrow slightly before turning back to Malin. Matthias suppressed his grin at how much angrier that seemed to make the snappy Fynknian, before also diverting his attention to their Captain. Malin had her arms folded, tossing her braided dark silver hair back before she spoke again.

"Alright, we're about half an hour from Mankjer Village, so I'm of the opinion that we should split into a ranging formation." She said, tone allowing no room for argument. "We're going to go by our buddy system." After looking around the circle for a moment, she nodded to herself. "Lukas, Matthias, you'll act as our foreguard, and range ahead to warn us of any imminent threats. Ros and Sigurd, you can be our anterior midguard. I'll move in the exact middle of the midguard, after you two. Nina and Hans, you'll act as the posterior midguard. Faena, Birgitte, you two will be the rearguard. I'd recommend keeping a distance of about thirty metres between each pair. If the people ahead stop, you do too." She surveyed them all. "Sound good?" they all nodded, and Matthias grabbed Lukas by the sleeve and steered him away.

Lukas sighed. "Damn foreguard. Of course." Matthias chuckled quietly as they set off, adjusting the weight of his pack on his shoulders as they walked.

"At least we won't be waiting in silent anxiety over whether or not there's something coming up ahead?" he suggested. Lukas pulled a face.

"And we'll also be the first to die if something does come up ahead." He said dryly. Biting back another laugh, Matthias reached over and punched him in the shoulder gently.

"Oh, come on, don't be such a downer." He teased. "Let's just appreciate some time away from Nina's babbling and Hans' glaring, yeah?" Lukas groaned.

"Saints, I'm ready to punch him." He muttered. "He seems to think that I'm about to throw myself at Nina or something." Matthias laughed, but felt his stomach twist ever so slightly.

"Well, are you?" he asked jokingly. Lukas threw him an irritated look.

"Of course not." He said, and Matthias nodded along, unsure of why he felt his shoulders relax slightly at that. "Even if I _was_ interested in her, she's in a relationship. I'm not a home wrecker." Matthias smiled.

"Always a good quality." He teased again. Lukas rolled his eyes, but Matthias saw the corner of his mouth turn up slightly and grinned at the sight. Lukas wasn't one for showing it too much when he was happy or excited, but Matthias liked to see him smile, no matter how small. "I've been meaning to say, you're been sleeping a lot better." Lukas' expression softened somewhat, and he nodded.

Ever since what they had both dubbed 'the nightmare incident' Lukas' actual number of nightmares had dropped dramatically. Matthias had still been roused a few nights by Lukas gasping and shaking, but it was never as bad anymore as it used to be. According to the prince himself, he had stopped dreaming about his parents' deaths. He still had frequent dreams of other parts of the Expansion, but the brutal, vicious murders that Matthias had witnessed no longer haunted the younger man, which was a good thing to hear.

Even dealing with Lukas' new nightmares wasn't so much of a challenge as it had been before. Matthias took care to wake him if he saw that the teen was distressed (making sure not to touch Lukas' bare skin, of course), but there was none of the tears or horror or vomiting that had been there before. And yes, admittedly, it might have resulted in more than a few surprisingly pleasant instances where Matthias had dragged the Fynknian into a hug, but they didn't tend to linger on those.

It was good to see the dark bags under Lukas' eyes finally easing away, and to see him with a little more energy during the day. It was comforting that, however unintentional, his own strange interference with Lukas' dreams had been helping somewhat. Somehow, at least from what hints Lukas had dropped, sharing the nightmare seemed to have eased its effect on him.

"I have been." Lukas said, tone soft. "It's been good to sleep through the night again." Matthias smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets as they continued to walk. Lukas was silent, expression pensive for a moment before he spoke again. "I will say, though, I seem to have transferred my problem to you."

Matthias' stomach turned over and he bit his lip. It was true, he had been a little bothered for the last few days. The Sjelan priestess they had met, Synnøve, had given him a lot to think about. He could feel Lukas' gaze on him still, and he sighed.

"I just…" he trailed off, waving a hand absently. "I don't know. What she said about my friends just bothered me a lot, I think." _Your friends are like wildflowers. They flourish when left alone. The longer you spend here, the more they will flourish_. Matthias sighed, running a hand absently through his hair. "I'm happy at the thought of my friends 'flourishing' honestly, but it's a hard pill to swallow that what they needed for that to happen was for me to just fuck off."

He heard Lukas hum quietly before he felt a hand on his arm. He looked over at the prince in surprise. Lukas had a mildly stern look on his face.

"Well, since we seem to have gotten into the habit of giving one another unsolicited advice, let me offer my own." Matthias found his resistance caving when he looked into the beautiful, dark colour of Lukas' eyes, and he sighed, gesturing for him to go on. "Matthias, the predictions of Sjelan priests and priestesses are rarely straightforward and non-cryptic. What she said doesn't necessarily mean that you've been holding your friends back in any way. Neither of us have any clue what's going on back at the resistance, so drawing conclusions when you have a complete absence of information isn't wise."

"Moreover," Lukas continued, his warm grip on Matthias' arm tightening slightly, "What she said could have a vastly different meaning to what you think. For all we know, they might be 'flourishing' because the rebels are letting them be freer since you made your agreement or something similar. Don't keep yourself up at night trying to decipher the words of an ancient order. Countless people have done that and it hasn't worked out well for them."

Matthias sighed. "Yeah, I know, but…" Lukas cocked his head to the side.

"You weren't made for dwelling on pointless things, Matthias." He said gently. "Your friends love you, and even if things don't go back to exactly how they were before, that doesn't mean that the group of you are suddenly going to start hating each other, now does it?"

Matthias smiled gently. As snarky as Lukas could be, he was definitely right about some things. He shook his head a little. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"As always." The prince teased. Grinning in earnest now, Matthias reached over and flicked him on the nose. Lukas smacked him in retaliation, and Matthias didn't miss the small but genuine smile on his face. Laughing, Matthias threw his arm around Lukas' shoulders and dragged him into a one-armed hug, grinning even wider when he heard Lukas groan in exasperation, place his hand on Matthias' chest and push half-heartedly at him.

After a moment, he released the mildly disgruntled Fynknian, still chuckling in amusement even as a small part of him lamented the loss of warmth against his chest. Still looking more amused than displeased, Lukas kept moving, pushing through the low-hanging branches of the trees. Huffing out a satisfied sigh, Matthias followed him.

He didn't know how exactly the prince managed to be so convincing, but he could feel the distinct absence of the weight that had been pressing down on his shoulders for the last few days. Matthias had never been one for thinking too hard about things, so why start now? With that thought buoying him a little, he sped up to fall into line next to Lukas. He grinned at the teen and received an eye-roll in return.

They let a comfortable silence engulf them for another ten minutes or so before Matthias checked a small navigation device that Ros had handed him earlier.

"Looks like we're only about five minutes from Mankjer Village." He said, humming in approval as he stowed it in his bag. Lukas nodded too, sweeping his keen gaze across the landscape. Their visibility was low because of all the thick pine trees around, but Matthias wasn't too worried. From what Malin had told them of Mankjer since their encounter with Synnøve, it was a village of about 300 people which frequently leant its aid to rebel fighters. From rooves to sleep under to medical assistance to food and resupply, Mankjer was an important stop for any rebel in need.

Matthias turned to Lukas. "Why don't go and scout things out up ahead? You hang back a bit." Lukas raised an eyebrow, folding his arms and twisting his expression into a sour look.

"Why, exactly? You think I can't defend myself?" Matthias sighed.

"You could kick my ass with one hand tied behind your back, and we are both well aware of that fact. Come on, Lukas. I'm meant to be your protector, yeah? Let me do some actual protecting for once." Lukas' raised eyebrow only quirked higher.

"That's a shitty excuse." He remarked. Matthias rolled his eyes.

"Tell the others to stop while I look around. Please...just…stay here." He said, turning on his heel and marching forwards, further into the woods and closer to Mankjer. Sticking his head cautiously out of the tree line, he could see buildings positioned about a hundred metres away. There didn't seem to be any activity around the village though. Frowning, he slid back behind the protection of the thick pines and moved east, keeping an eye on the buildings before he spotted a clearly marked path into the village. He shuffled up the embankment a little before approaching the path from the safety of the woods. He had been warned that teams of Unionists wandered Fynkn's rural areas to quiet any dissent and hunt down rebel guerrilla groups. It was those gangs that had decimated the guerrilla squads so badly in the last few months.

Spotting the small, dark stones that lined the path directly into the village, he stepped out from the trees.

And couldn't hold back the horrified cry that left his mouth.

Absently, he was aware that his cry had been loud, and that it would likely alert Lukas at the very least. He knew that he should be moving back to alert the others, tell them that they should go, tell them what he was seeing. But he couldn't make his feet move. His stomach was twisting as he stared at the horrifying sight ahead of him, but he couldn't even bring himself to press a hand to his mouth when he tasted bile on his tongue. His hands were shaking, he realised dimly, and his breath was coming fast and ragged.

His body finally acknowledged the fact that _oh yes, I can move_ , and he staggered backwards until his legs collided with a tree trunk and his hand flew to his mouth. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, and he finally managed to force his gaze away from the awful thing in front of him. He pressed his hands against the side of his head as his stomach heaved and he desperately tried to keep himself from vomiting. He shook his head from side to side.

"Oh no, no, no, oh fuck no, what _the fuck…_ " he muttered under his breath, turning his head away as the stench finally hit him too.

"Matthias?" he could hear Lukas calling out to him, and felt some small part of his consciousness slither back. He turned slightly as he heard the low crunch of snow.

"Lukas…no, wait, don't-" Lukas emerged from the woods and stopped short. The blood drained from his face and the teen reached out and grabbed onto one of the branches of the tree Matthias was leaning against. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and turned away, pressing a hand to his mouth. Matthias forced himself to his feet as Lukas moved to turn and look again. Forcing his own attention away from the horror behind him, he staggered over to Lukas and moved in front of him, trying to block the Fynknian's line of sight.

"Don't…don't…" he trailed off and shook his head before trying again. "Don't look at it." Lukas' breathing had sped up, and Matthias steered him away, swallowing heavily as he tasted bitterness in his mouth again. "Don't look at it." Lukas was shaking, and Matthias spun them around so that the brutal sight was in front of him, and not Lukas. He cupped Lukas' face in his hands and tilted his head upwards. "Don't look at it. Look at me. Okay? Just look at me." Lukas forced his eyes up to stare at Matthias. Matthias stared at the dark blue of his eyes, and at the small silver crescent in his left, the small imperfection. He knew his hands were still shaking.

"Matthias…" Lukas murmured, swallowing, "We need to do something…" Matthias sighed shakily and nodded. "Okay?" Lukas muttered. Matthias nodded.

"Okay." He muttered, nodding to himself. "Yeah, okay." He released Lukas' face and they hesitated a moment before turning to reapproach the path leading to Mankjer. He felt Lukas' hand wrap around his wrist as they got closer.

It really was horrifying.

It was a woman. A poor, poor woman.

She had been strapped tightly to a tall post. She had been stripped naked, and from what Matthias could see, most of the skin on her body had either been ripped off, or so badly bruised that it looked like raw muscle. Her hands had been pulled behind her and bound tightly with spiked wire. Dried blood covered her, and her intestines were hanging from a gaping wound in her lower abdomen. Her eyes were gone, judging by the look of her head she had been scalped, and her nose had also been cut off. Parts of the body had started to decompose, and the smell was absolutely horrendous.

Matthias took care to breathe through his nose as they stared at her in horror. He felt Lukas' grip on his arm tighten.

"We should…we should take her down from there." Lukas murmured after a long moment of silence. Matthias hesitated, before nodding as they approached her. Lukas stopped short, his nails digging into Matthias' skin. "Wait." His hand slid down so that his fingers were wrapped around Matthias'. Lukas' face had gone white again. "Matthias, she's still alive."

Matthias sucked in a shocked breath as he looked over at Lukas, and then back at the woman. When he looked back at the woman, he realised he could faintly see her chest moving in and out. Shaking slightly again, Matthias moved forward, nodding to himself.

"Okay, okay…" he trailed off. "Alright, if we knock out the supports at the bottom, we can take her down from there." Lukas nodded, and gently pulled his hand away from Matthias' as he moved over to the woman. Matthias nodded to himself as they carefully approached her. She was breathing very faintly, and very raggedly, but the closer Matthias got, the more obvious it was. Lukas gently reached out to the woman, and touched her. She stiffened, her bound legs twitching away instinctively as a choked gasp escaped her mouth. Lukas pressed his fingers gently to one of her eviscerated arms, and her struggles ceased as her body relaxed.

"I'm just calming her down." He murmured when Matthias gave him a curious look. Matthias unsheathed his axe and slammed it into the support beams keeping the post stable, and dropped it to the ground as the post swayed, and he and Lukas carefully lowered it to the ground. Lukas pulled a knife from his belt and carefully sliced through the wire binding the woman to the post itself, and they finally pulled her free, gently laying her on the ground. They were both silent for a moment, staring in horror at the extensive damage that had been done to her body.

"It was Unionists. One of their gangs must have targeted Mankjer." Lukas murmured, voice shaking with suppressed fury. Matthias stared absently in shock. He had always heard rumours of atrocities committed by the Union in the Free Courts, but he had never really taken them to heart. He disliked the Union, and his sister had only strengthened that disposition, but this…this was beyond anything he would have expected of them. He looked down at the woman, still breathing haggardly onwards.

"Lukas…she's not going to survive these injuries." He murmured. "She's probably in excruciating pain." Lukas fell silent, biting his lip and nodding.

"I know." He said, tone heavy. Matthias glanced over at him. He had never seen the teen look so unbearably sad before. It made the leaden weight in his chest even heavier. Matthias sighed, and pulled his own knife from his belt. Lukas winced, but pressed his hands gently to the woman's arm again. "I'm taking her pain away." He murmured to Matthias. "She shouldn't suffer anymore." Matthias nodded, and when the woman seemed to be still and calm, he leaned over and, with a single, quick movement of his wrist, slit her throat. Her rough breathing shuttered out, and the few, small movements of her body ceased.

Lukas sighed after a long moment of silence. "If there was anyone left alive in that village, I doubt that they would have left her there." Matthias sighed, and nodded in defeat. He had come to that same conclusion himself, but a part of him hadn't wanted to voice it.

"I'll check the house on the left side of the road. You check the ones on the right?" Matthias suggested wearily. Lukas nodded silently, and after Matthias picked up his discarded axe from the ground, they moved silently, doing the rounds. Matthias felt his heart get heavier with every house he checked. Dead bodies littered the floor, blood seeping into the floorboards and splattered over the walls. There were bullet holes and discarded knives that indicated exactly how violent their deaths had been.

When they regrouped next to the path, they didn't need to speak to know that they'd both encountered the exact same conclusion once again. Mankjer, a village of over 300 people, had been completely wiped out.

They trudged back to roughly where they had stopped earlier, far back in the forest, and came face to face with the rest of the squad, who had obviously all met up there. Malin was standing with her back leaning against a tree, Ros squinting over a map beside her. Nina and Faena were murmuring to one another, and Hans, Sigurd and Birgitte were seated on the ground. Hans spotted them first, and jumped to his feet, eyeing Lukas malevolently.

"Took you two long enough." He scoffed. "Having a midday tryst in the woods, were you?" Matthias completely ignored Hans as Lukas turned to Malin, who straightened up expectantly.

"The Unionists have been through here." Lukas said, tone dull. "They're all dead." That rendered Hans completely silent as the rest of the squad stared at them both in horror. Malin blanched, and took a moment to compose herself.

"Mankjer village has over 300 occupants." She said, obviously seeking clarification. Matthias sighed.

"300 odd bodies, now. Some of the inhabitants might have escaped, but it looks like the vast majority were killed." Still looking pale, Malin nodded.

"I see. I'm sorry that you two had to see that." She murmured. "We'll move around the village instead, then. We should still aim to get to Jostenberg as quickly as possible." They all nodded numbly. Malin looked at the two of them. "There…there was something more, wasn't there?" Matthias closed his eyes briefly.

"There…was a woman who had been strapped to a post. She…she'd been skinned, disembowelled…" Matthias saw Lukas press his hand to his mouth again, looking nauseous. "She was still alive, somehow, so we put her out of her misery." Malin nodded, eyes flickering over to Lukas as her brow creased with concern.

"I see. We'll circle around the village and stop early. I think we all need some good rest." Eying Lukas with that same look of concern, she turned to Birgitte. "Birgitte, would you mind keeping an eye on Christensen? He doesn't look well."

"Apologies for not being at top form after seeing a woman with her intestines hanging out of her." Lukas snapped, still looking pale. Malin didn't look even remotely offended by the sharpness of his tone.

"No apology required, Christensen. If I was in your position, I'd likely have already been sick." She said gently. Malin nodded in the direction of the woods to the west. "We should get moving. It wouldn't do to wait for vultures to show up." With a few quiet nods they all fell into a rough formation, though they stood much closer to one another than they normally would have. Matthias wrapped his arms tightly around himself, trying to rinse his brain of the horror he had experienced.

He felt a comforting hand on his arm and smiled weakly at Nina, who was frowning in concern.

"You okay?" she asked gently. He shrugged, and she nodded, looking away. He didn't have a better answer to give.


	32. Where Does Fantasy End & Reality Begin?

**Okkaaayyyyy I honestly have no idea how I even got this finished, and I honestly am not totally in love with the final product, but here it is! I'm impressed with myself for managing to stay on schedule so far even with uni really starting to pile things on now. Thank you to everyone who is still somehow continuing to review this! I really appreciate it!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Arthur and Alfred got down and dirty ;) and Arthur noticed some weird behaviour from Yao, prompting concern**  
 **\- Lovino met the Im family, and noticed a few offputting details about them.**  
 **\- Matthias and Lukas came across a woman who had been brutally tortured. They found the rest of Mankjer Village slaughtered, courtesy of the Union.**  
 **\- The bounty hunters are still prisoners of the Resistance, for the most part, though they are allowed to help train young fighters as a way of exercising**  
 **\- Feliciano reunited with Emilia and Tori, and they all agreed to take lessons together**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Depictions of serious mental illness**  
 **\- Some mild sexual references**

 **Pleaseeeeeeeeeee review! I love hearing from all of you! :DDD**

 **Also, I've been considering turning this into an original story, with changed characters and an improved plotline, of course. Thoughts?**

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
9th Augynt_

"So, I take it that you aren't interested, then?" Alfred asked as Francis hurled another dart into the circular corkboard that someone had stuck on the wall of the training arena. Francis bit his lip as he picked up another dart and turned it over in his palm before raising his arm.

"I never said that." He said simply. He hurled the next dart. It sailed easily through the air and embedded itself in the corkboard with an audible _thunk_. He ran his fingers over the three that remained in the tin box next to him as he absently stretched out his ankle, which he had twisted earlier in one of his training matches. Alfred fidgeted in his peripheral vision. Francis selected the dart in the middle, tipped with a blue feather. He sighed as he raised his arm, squinting carefully at the board. "I just…I don't know, Alfred. If I was aiming to join the resistance, I would have done so already." Alfred sighed.

"Joining the mission doesn't necessarily mean that you're becoming part of the resistance, man. They thought we should ask you because they thought you might be interested, is all. Even if it does mean doing work for the resistance, isn't that preferable over sitting around here and doing nothing for ages?" Francis pressed his lips together thinly. It was true, honestly, that he would rather do the rebels' dirty work than do nothing, but he wasn't convinced yet.

"Here's a better question," he posed, "why did they think I would be interested in this?" Alfred blinked.

"Oh, it was Arthur who suggested I ask you." Francis clenched his jaw at the mention of the pirate, wondering why the snarky Pyndaphian was doing this. If it was some ploy to get Francis to forgive him, it wasn't going to work. Francis made a conscious effort to un-grit his teeth before asking his next question.

"Oh? And why did Kirkland suggest that?" he snapped. He saw Alfred flinch slightly at his tone, and felt his stomach twist guiltily. He had backed away from Alfred's relationship with Arthur after Leon's outburst, but his acceptance of them as a pair didn't mean he was on good terms with the pirate yet. A small part of him knew that his remaining resentment was entirely manufactured as a result of spending so much time hating the pirate. Francis had no real reason to dislike him anymore, but he still felt like he had been betrayed.

"No-one told you? The mission is to free a slave, man. I know you hate slavery, and so does he, so he recommended we ask you." Francis blinked in surprise. A mission to liberate someone from slavery? He certainly hadn't been expecting that. He felt some of his irritation and anger simmer down a little. Even if it was a resistance-hosted mission, it was certainly an effort he could get behind. He sat up a little as he picked up another dart and stared at the board.

"Why are they freeing this particular slave?" he asked. "Is it a lottery-style process? Whoever wins gets liberated?" Alfred shuffled uncomfortably, and Francis could tell that the other man had something to say that he wasn't going to like much. Bracing himself, he finally made eye contact with Alfred as his friend started to speak.

"Well…there are literal billions of slaves out there, so there's no way the resistance could free them all, or even a significant percentage of them. We just don't have the numbers for that. If we do make an effort to free slaves, we target ones who can help the resistance in return." Francis felt his stomach twist unpleasantly. Of course that was why.

"Makes sense. What use is a slave unless they have some sort of talent, right?" Francis said. Alfred flinched.

"Come on man, be realistic. If the resistance is gonna put effort in saving people, you kinda have to hope that that person is going to pay it back, right?" Francis knew Alfred was speaking logically, but he could feel himself getting angrier anyway. Alfred must have realised this, and sighed, saying something that stopped Francis from getting really pissed.

"Even if they are just saving her specifically because she could be useful, isn't that better than not saving her at all?" Francis blinked, shoulders sagging as he acknowledged the point Alfred was making. Alfred bit his lip. "Do you wanna come with us or not?"

After a long moment, Francis turned to his again. "Who else is coming?" Alfred fiddled with a plaited leather bracelet on his wrist.

"Well, the line-up hasn't exactly been determined yet, but so far Arthur and I seem pretty much guaranteed to go. I really don't know who else, but there are a lot of rebels interested in this project, so I really don't know." Francis nodded to himself. That didn't sound like completely terrible. He had met a lot of reasonable rebels here already, and if they were as stalwartly anti-slavery as he was, then he would only get along with them. It was disconcerting, agreeing to go on a mission when he didn't even know who he was going with, but…he wanted to be part of this. He wanted to help someone get their freedom back. He sighed. Spending time with the pirate would likely be unpleasant, but he had plenty of people to distract him, by the sounds of it.

"Fine, I'll come with you." He said, resigned even as Alfred beamed at his response. "But don't expect me to get all buddy-buddy with Kirkland just because he's your boyfriend." Alfred nodded, but frowned slightly.

"I really don't get why you still hate him so much. I get you dislike slavery, but he told you why he was involved and everything, and he doesn't seem to have animosity towards you anymore." Francis bit his lip, shaking his head. The distant sense of betrayal and anger rose up again, and he hardened his facial expression.

"It's a long story. We've known each other for years. There's a decent amount of history there." Alfred sighed, but nodded.

"Yeah, I know. I wish you two would make up, though." He gave Francis a shy smile. "I reckon you two would make a great pair of friends." Francis swallowed, unsure of why he suddenly felt like he had a lump in his throat. Why was he getting emotional over Kirkland now? It had been years since he had let himself really get upset by what had happened.

"We were, but that was years ago." Alfred hesitated, looking like he wanted to go on before deciding against it.

"Yeah, true. Well, I'll tell Octavia that you're keen to come." He smiled at Francis. "It'll be nice to work in the field with you again." Francis felt himself cave a little, and he smiled past the conflicting emotions churning in his gut.

"It will be nice." He echoed. Alfred raised a hand and waved as he exited the training arena. Francis returned the gesture half-heartedly. He turned over the dart in his hand, examining the crimson streak painted down the side before raising his arm and hurling it at the board, watching as it embedded itself hilt-deep in the bullseye.

* * *

"I feel like my brain is too full to function." Feliciano groaned as he, Tori and Emilia exited the small tent where they had been taking part in their strange lessons. "How did you manage that by yourself?" this second statement he directed towards Tori, who threw her head back and laughed.

"Oh, it's not that bad, Feli, come on." She teased. Emilia rolled her eyes at them both.

"Ugh, Lukas taught me that stuff when I was like 12. You two and your ignorance is really concerning. How on earth did you guys survive this long?"

"Sheer dumb luck." Tori said.

"Ignorance." Feliciano proudly said. Emilia laughed at that. He had explained how Lovino had kept the details of their true identities hidden from him for his own protection. They had been surprised at the route that his older brother had chosen to take, but ultimately agreed that it was a good way of keeping the secret secure. As Emilia's older brother Lukas apparently liked to say, a secret was not a secret when more than two people knew it. Feliciano wasn't careless, but he was talkative, so it had been a good move on Lovino's part.

He did wonder where his brother was right now. He knew that Dirie had taken him with the intention of selling him, so he was either still on Kelly's ship or he had been sold. Feliciano couldn't tell which possibility was more terrifying. He hated the thought of his brother stuck in the dark, greasy holds of a pirate ship, but the idea of him being sold to someone who might want all matter of things with him was worse. Feliciano knew that Yao had sent out a force of people to look for Lovino, but he wasn't too confident about the results. It had been almost a month since Kelly had taken Lovino from Dirie. It simply didn't make sense to keep a prisoner than valuable on one's ship for so long when willing buyers were widespread.

He turned his attention back to the conversation at hand, trying to suppress the unwelcome feeling of hopelessness that had risen up inside him. Tori and Emilia hadn't turned judgemental eyes when he had succumbed to tears after talking about his brother a few nights ago, so he knew they wouldn't scorn him for being upset, but he was sick of crying all the time. It wasn't helping him and it certainly wasn't helping Lovino. He needed to make himself useful here, so that even if he couldn't help his brother directly, he could still do some good.

"I will admit that I didn't know those little facts about the eyes, though." Emilia admitted as the three of them drifted into the dining hall. Tori nodded as she darted up to the snack bar and seized an apple.

"Yeah, me neither. I guess it's not the sort of thing that comes to mind when you imagine the Free Court gifts." She mused. "Still seriously interesting. Someone's gotta film me next time I'm training so we can see if it's true." Feliciano nodded along as he seized a large slice of dragon-fruit and nibbled on it absently.

They had been taught about the physical effects of using their powers today, which was something Lovino had never been able to go too in-depth about. It had been fascinating, to say the least. Not only had they learned about the side effects of over-using their abilities – nosebleeds, headaches, fatigue, vomiting and fainting, in the worst cases – they had also learned about the only physical sign that they were using their abilities; changes in their eyes.

Feliciano had never noticed, but the appearance of their eyes changed whenever they used their abilities. It was different for each royal family, which was also fascinating to Feliciano. The magnitude of the change, and by extension, how obvious it was, depended on how much they were exerting themselves.

According to their lovely teacher, the Laurinaitis family's eyes had the least obvious change. Their eyes, which were naturally green with a ring of gold around the irises, changed colour to something more similar to bronze. The colour started to change first at the ring of gold, and spread outwards the more they were using their powers. Tori had been very excited to learn about this, and had demanded they test it out. Their poor teacher had kindly asked her to wait until after class was over.

The Vargas family's change was more noticeable. The more they used their powers, the more that their irises would glow, normally in a vibrant, almost golden colour. She had been able to show them a picture of one of Feliciano's relatives whose eyes had been glowing like flashlights at one point. The sight of the piercing rings of gold had sent a shiver racing up his spine, but he had been oddly tempted to try it, to bend and push his powers until his eyes glowed like that too.

The Bondeviks, unfortunately for them, had the most unsettling change. Put simply, their pupils dilated when they used their powers. Only a larger than normal use of power would trigger it, but when a Fynknian royal was really exerting themselves, it made for a very creepy visual. Some pictures they'd been shown had displayed Bondeviks with pupils so dilated they almost touched their eyelids. That was rare, though, because most Bondeviks couldn't channel enough power to do so, their teacher had explained.

It had made for a very interesting and engaging lesson, even if Feliciano had indeed had so much information shoved into his head it was disconcerting. It was also his first ever experience in a school setting, given that he had been taught by private tutors at home on Syhvva and had been homeschooled by Lovino ever since. Emilia and Tori had seemed surprised by that. By Tori's own admission, she had been schooled by an old Garvich on Aralos who had offered free lessons to children scattered around the Mauriti Settlement where she had lived. Emilia and Lukas had apparently settled down in one place long enough to get put into a public school, so they were both relatively familiar with the layout.

Feliciano had never minded not getting taught in a proper school, though. Lovino had scrounged together enough money to buy textbooks, and taught himself before teaching the content to Feliciano. They used to sit in their old apartment on Rela for about three or four hours a day, with Lovino explaining concepts to him and then having him apply the knowledge via math problems or reading exercises. He had emerged with a fairly good education, all things considered. It was one thing of many that he owed to his older brother. He would find a way to make it up to him one day, that was something he had sworn to himself. It was a promise he was dedicated to keeping.

And he wasn't the type to break promises.

* * *

 _Kadd Skär  
Belto Region, Fynkn  
11th August_

"You slow-pokes should hurry up, you know. There could be Unionists lurking around every corner and the lot of you would be the first to get picked off by them. How far is Manavi again?"

"Too damn far for my liking, that's for sure." Rino muttered under his breath before raising his voice. "Calm yourself down, Justsen. We're making good time." Kors hurled a challenging look at Rino as, for perhaps the hundredth time that day, Riya and Storlie exchanged a look and rolled their eyes in unison. Riya fought down the smile that wanted to appear on her face as she watched Rino and Kors devolve into arguing again.

She considered herself a good judge of what relationships were like between people, and she was seeing a lot of repeated history. Kors and Rino bickered and argued, usually with Kors being loud and proud about it while Rino relied more on subtle digs, but she could see the little tells that their relationship was combative less because of legitimate dislike and more because of misidentified tension.

Kors talked big about how good he was at doing other people's jobs for them, and about how none of them should get distracted by trivial matters, yet she never failed to notice how his neck flushed and eyes flittered towards Rino's lips when the gentle giant got into his personal space to give him a lecture or two.

"How much longer, do you think?" Storlie asked her quietly. Riya shrugged. Kors was a fascinating person. He seemed to be oddly flirtatious towards different members of their squad at different times, though his most enduring interest seemed to lie with Rino, yet he seemed uncomfortable and flighty whenever talk of commitment came up. She had yet to bother asking him why that was, not least because she feared the questioning would be interpreted as interest, which wasn't the case. She shrugged, glancing over at her short-haired squadmate briefly.

"I don't know, they're both very stubborn, both also both very sexually repressed." She cocked her head to the side as they observed the two continuing to argue as they walked. "Maybe three weeks?" Storlie nodded.

"That seems like a reasonable estimate. I agree. Though, I feel like their attraction is an entirely physical one. Rino is aromantic, after all, so hopefully Kors doesn't seek any sort of romance with him." She said coolly. Riya turned her gaze back forwards, a small smile crossing over her face as she recalled how similar Kors and Rino's bickering was to Lukas and Matthias'. There were a lot of parallels, honestly. She sighed. As much as she was taking to her new squad and enjoying traversing Fynkn's icy wilds with them, she did miss her original friends from Blå Ren. Matthias' infectious energy and Lukas' quiet support and snarky quips had made her days there very enjoyable, and as glad as she was that they ended up in the same squad, she really did wish that she had been plucked up by Captain Thomassen, too.

That wasn't to say that she hated her current squad. That definitely wasn't the case. Though Kors could be a little overbearing at times and the others were a whole mixed bag of odd, she was fond of them. The problem was that she was yet to forge a connection here like she had with Lukas and Matthias. Not having someone to trust implicitly was odd, and a little off-putting. Her options weren't terrible, but they weren't great, either.

There was Kors, of course, who was loud and abrasive and who flirted with her even though he had his other eye fixed on Rino. He was a good person, but he was also very competitive and a little arrogant. She trusted him to watch her back in a fight and do his damndest to fuck up the enemy, but she wasn't sure that he was so good with the emotional side of things. She didn't know much about his past or personal life, but she had heard rumours that it wasn't too superb. Not many people nowadays could claim to have that, though, so she couldn't tell whether it was abnormal or not. He was a good squad-mate, and she would like to get to know him better, but time would tell if he ended up being a decent enough person to share her secrets with.

Her current walking companion and her buddy, Lillian Storlie, was just as impenetrable a wall as Riya herself was. Storlie, who tended to go by her last name rather than her first, was not as sharp and cold as she had come off during her fight with Lukas, but she wasn't much warmer, either. They ended up walking side by side and talking often enough, but they never went deeper than the surface level of conversation topics. They didn't discuss emotions or their pasts or motivations, or anything of real substance. Riya wasn't the type to pry, even though she was certainly curious about Storlie, but she doubted the other woman would appreciate sharing personal things.

Rino Talget was quiet and withdrawn – until he got into a row with Kors, that was. For all his gentleness, Rino was not afraid to call Kors out on his bullshit, and he had a downright wicked sense of humour. Riya didn't think she would be comfortable sharing deep things with him, though. He made for good company, though.

Their squad leader, Hedda Dal, was a vivacious woman, and Riya, with her own quiet personality and dark history, didn't feel like they clicked too well. She obeyed orders and was polite to her superior at all times, but she doubted they would ever be close friends. Another of her squad members, Bendik Rue, was very similar. He was nice, and sometimes even a little too much so, but she didn't click with either of them.

Jan Belland was a fairly agreebale person. He was pretty much unflappable. After all, Lukas had dislocated his knee during a match and Jan had barely blinked. She got along well with him. Henriette Aamo and Christopher Lehne, who rounded out their squad of nine, weren't too sociable. Riya tended to enjoy comfortable silence with both of them.

She did trust her squad, but not as much as she trusted her two wonderfully moronic friends from training. Whether it was their banter or their oblivious but obvious flirting with one another. Recalling her bet with Matthias, she grinned. Twenty kroën would definitely be welcomed by her empty wallet.

Looking up, she grinned as she saw Kors red and flustered, and Rino smiling shyly, the two of them obviously having given up their argument. She did like her squad, and though she missed her friends, she was glad to be fighting for her planet. She exchanged another amused look with Storlie, and turned her eyes back to the horizon.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
12th Augynt_

The world felt crooked today.

Yao sat up. His bed creaked softly underneath him. He looked over to the open flap of his tent. It was bright outside. He rubbed at his eyes. The clock sitting on his table read 11:03am. He stumbled to his feet. It was so late. How had he slept for so long?

He could hear the whistling of wind outside. That was odd. Wind wasn't common here, even though Nyma was very flat. He looked down. He was still dressed from last night.

 _Work, I have work to do_. He thought.

"Obviously. You should have been awake hours ago. Do you even care about this movement anymore?" The tone was malicious and resentful. Rubbing at his eyes, he nodded, running a hand through his hair.

"Of course, I care. I was up late, I suppose. I didn't mean to be." He frowned. The whistling from outside was continuing.

"Oh, _obviously_. Even now you're lingering around here and wasting time. There could be scores of people who need help, but you wouldn't even know, would you?" Yao flinched at that. That was a good point. "Of course it's a good point. Do your job, rather than being more of a waste of space than you already are." Yao sighed, rolling his shoulders before obeying and ducking out of his tent. The air was horribly still and humid today. The whistling intensified. He turned on his heel and marched towards the rest of the base.

"They're all looking at you." Yao twitched when he heard this and looked up as he wove between tents. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He could feel eyes burning into his neck and face. Every part of him was under scrutiny, and he shot a sharp look at one Lieutenant who glanced over at him. Their eyes widened, and they whirled around to return to their task. He darted around a table covered with weapons.

"They're all looking at you. Or am I paranoid? No, they're looking, definitely." Yao jerked in surprise when he heard his own thoughts spoken aloud.

"Shut up," he muttered, "I need to focus today."

" _I need to focus today_." The tone changed to mocking and demeaning. Yao cringed a little as he gratefully located his own tent and ducked inside, happily sinking into his own chair. "You're pathetic." A loose, loud warbling sound echoed out from somewhere, cutting off anything more that they wanted to say. Yao glanced around, but no-one else wandering around outside the tent seemed bothered by the sound, or to have even noticed. Shaking himself slightly, he looked over the document. It was a list of names for people who had volunteered to go on the mission to free the slave that Barkhado Dirie had identified. It was a lengthy document, and he had to sort through it.

He exhaled slowly and opened it, skimming the list.

"No, they're too flighty and anxious. A warrior my ass." He heard. "Them too. Oh, this one is an _idiot_. They honestly believe they have what it takes? How elementary."

"It's good to see people volunteering anyway." Yao said, brow crinkling in irritation.

"I'm sure. Oh, they wouldn't be too useless, but they wouldn't be too _useful_ either. The siblings! Ignorant bastards. They would tank the whole thing. That Lila girl would too. Don't be so soft and caring. You need actual soldiers for this. To choose _them_ would be an awful mistake." Yao gritted his teeth, rubbing at his temples as he glanced around his tent. He still felt watched, even here.

He got to his feet, the document in one hand as he began to circle the room, observing the small corners of the folds of the tent itself, along with the solid structure it was built on. He glanced at the paper continuously as he scanned the supports, clambering onto a chair to run his gloved fingers along the wood planks and squint into the empty spaces, searching out any camera or microphone that might have been watching him. All the while, he continued his slow examination of the list.

"Not them…No, not her either…If you even think about choosing him you might as well throw yourself into a ditch…you really did wake up without your senses this morning…" Yao huffed, trying to brush off the irritating commentary as he stepped off the chair, frowning at the fact that he hadn't managed to find anything. He began to search the next wall, yanking the chair around to assist him again. He paused a few times to pull a pen from his pocket and underline a few names on the list, ignoring the criticism muttered in his ears.

"Oh yes, those will do nicely. If you want everyone on the mission to fail miserably, then you have truly picked the best possible team for that."

"Shut up." He snapped suddenly, anger surging up abruptly. He heard a rustling behind him and spun around to see Octavia standing by the doorway, looking confused with her hand raised and poised to knock. Yao felt ice flood his veins for some reason as she stared at him, looking confused.

"I…didn't say anything…?" she said slowly, looking baffled. Yao felt his grip tighten on his pen, to a bruising extent, then nodded to himself and stepped off the chair again, dusting himself a little.

"I was just…" he trailed off without providing an answer, shaking his head before approaching her. "Anyway, what did you need?" Octavia hesitated for a moment, her eyes sweeping the room before coming back to him as she handed him a file she was holding.

"I have the first draft of one of the Hanlonya reports done. I was wondering if you would look over it for me? Only if you have the time, of course." Yao looked at her. Octavia was a very experienced officer and Vice-General. He didn't understand why she wanted his approval on them. He nodded nonetheless, feeling too scattered too ponder the topic too much. He placed the file on his desk, nodding again.

"I'll look at it when I'm able to, thank you Octavia." He said. Her shoulders relaxed, and she smiled happily.

"Thank you so much." She said. "I really don't want to have to suffer censure for doing something wrong." She looked up at him. "You're trusted by everyone around here, so if it has your seal of approval, everyone will be a lot more satisfied with them."

"I thought I already told you to stop wondering about what everyone else thinks." Yao said. "It'll be fine without my review, but I'll make the effort anyway." Octavia nodded.

"Her reports would probably be better without your input." He heard the low mutter. Frowning, he jerked his head in the direction it had come, muttering a dismissive comment in Yanish. When he turned his gaze forward again, Octavia was still standing there, frowning slightly.

"Are…are you okay, Yao?" she asked hesitantly. Yao frowned at her. Why in the galaxy was she asking him that? He was clean today, at least reasonably so, and he had gotten a good amount of sleep, so he knew he didn't look tired. He'd had some mood swings lately, it was true, but nothing he had done this morning should have suggested that anything was wrong. Because nothing was. For the first time in a long while, he felt fine.

"Of course, I am." He said, tone getting a little sterner. "What makes you think otherwise?" Octavia blinked, bit her lip and then shook her head.

"Oh…um, nothing. Have a good day, Yao." He raised an eyebrow at her odd behaviour, but didn't comment on it. Yao nodded absently as she turned to leave, not acknowledging her farewell as further bitter commentary caught his attention.

"She's acting a little strangely." He nodded in agreement.

"She is." He murmured, frowning after her back. "I hope she's alright."

* * *

The rest of the day passed relatively uneventfully. He waded his way through the immense list of willing volunteers for the slave liberation mission and finally managed to work out a semi-reasonable list that received no criticism, which was in his mind a sign of success.

Yao's gaze flittered over to his clock, which had 6:09pm glaring in vibrant red numbers. He rubbed his eyes. He was sure that he had other matters to deal with, but he couldn't bring himself to be overly concerned with that right now. He turned his attention to the mission concerning the slave.

He had already decided to send Kirkland along, since it was information provided by his contact, and since the pirate had to continually prove his cooperation in order for their deal to work as designed. He had also deigned to add one of the other bounty hunters, Francis Bonnefoy, to the list at Kirkland's request and simultaneous recommendation. The bounty hunter was an odd one. There were very few records of him that Yao's spies had been able to uncover, and nothing from prior to 4506CC. It was baffling, but Yao was too tired to delve into the mess right now. Why the first 16 years of the man's life was completely off the books, he had no idea.

Yao had turned his eyes on other members of their little incarcerated gang that, in his mind, could be more easily swayed to their side than others. The first one he had in mind, which was surprising to even himself, was Feliks Lukasiewicz. He had initially been more wary of Lukasiewicz than essentially anyone else in the group of prisoners, not least for the fact that he had an extensive criminal record, but very little time served in actual prison. He had a remarkable ability to slip under the radar, which would be a massive problem if the bounty hunter ever managed to escape their clutches.

Lukasiewicz was incredibly intelligent, and very wily, too. He was talented with a whole assortment of weapons, and according to the rebels who had captured him initially, much stronger than his lean frame would suggest. He had a high tolerance for pain and tended to analyse a situation before acting. He wasn't prone to emotional outbursts, and though externally he gave off the air of a controlled and stable person, Yao could see something dark and repressed behind his eyes.

The bounty hunter didn't seem to be the sort to have any sentimental attachments or weaknesses, but he did nonetheless. Lukasiewicz had proven to be protective of his friends, similar to Køhler, and of course, he was very… _fond_ of Tori Laurinaitis. She had, surprisingly, acted as a foil through which Yao had subtly started to display the resistance's admirable traits.

Since the two of them had started a proper relationship, Yao had allowed the restrictions placed on Lukasiewicz to slowly loosen. He had allowed the bounty hunter to leave the cell with Tori as his chaperone, but over time had even relaxed that rule. So far, to his own surprise, Lukasiewicz hadn't gone out of his way to steal any rebel secrets or cause trouble. He seemed content enough to just move freely and spend time with his girlfriend.

The deal Yao had made with Matthias Køhler was coming to fruition even more than he had originally anticipated. Emilia had a loose connection to her brother, and he knew that she would come running the minute she sensed anything was wrong with him. As she was yet to do so, he could only assume that Køhler was holding up his end of the deal. With their leader gone and a certain level of vulnerability exposed, they had been more open to suggestion than Yao had dared to dream for. With Alfred, Gilbert, Tori already firmly on their side and Arthur, Mei and Leon being swayed a little more every day, Yao was slowly chipping away at the stubbornness of the group.

Recent developments had only made the situation more promising. Vash had also been provided more freedoms on the condition that he put his energy towards acclimating and helping Feliciano adjust to the resistance. The harsh assassin hadn't seemed delighted about the presence of the Zephyrak who had followed Feliciano from the Red Pike, but she too was staying out of trouble, preferring to practice most days or converse with the prince on occasion.

Hopefully, Køhler was being shown how evil the Union could be on Fynkn. One of the other prisoners, Francis Bonnefoy, had also agreed to participate in the mission to liberate the slave from Xexei, and the training sessions in the arena seemed to be warming the remaining criminals to the rebels. Antonio Carriedo and Louise Beilschmidt, according to his sources, especially seemed to be caving.

He set down the piece of paper he had been examining, nodding to himself. There was no immediate outcry or criticism, so he could only assume that it was a good enough list. Choosing who to send on the mission had been a hard job, but he was confident in his decision. He would consult with Octavia tomorrow to see if she agreed.

His head snapped up as he heard scrambling and scuffling from outside. Clambering to his feet, he carefully peered outside. It was almost dusk, so the light was lower than normal, but there was nothing in sight. He circled his tent. Nothing. That was odd.

Humming tunelessly to himself, he closed the tent and moved back to his work, thoughts in a jumble.

* * *

 _Fordjenson Forest,  
Feynir Region, Fynkn,  
13th Augynt_

Lukas rolled his shoulders as he walked, wincing at the low cracking sounds that met his ears as he did so. He rubbed at his eyes, sighing. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on the ground and sleep, but he knew it wasn't an option. They only had about another two hours left of travel, so he knew that he should just deal with it, but the urge was there and strong nonetheless. He had initially feared that his fatigue was a sign of him being weaker than the rest of the squad, but even Ros, who by her own admission was the most experienced member on the squad save Malin herself, looked exhausted.

They had set a punishing pace after discovering the horrors left behind in Mankjer Village five days ago, and Malin wasn't letting them slow down or rest no matter how much they pleaded. Hans had put up a tough front for the first three days, claiming that everyone else was weak and childish for complaining so much, but even he had looked ready to keel over by yesterday evening when they had finally stopped to rest.

According to Malin, they had to move quickly for their own safety. Due to the freshness of the bodies in Mankjer, and since the poor woman Lukas and Matthias had found had still been alive, it was highly likely that there were still Union death squads in the area. They couldn't risk being captured by one of them. They were brutally efficient, sadistic and armed to the teeth, and would probably be able to overpower the nine of them if it came down to a physical fight.

Not only was there the threat of death squads, but they had been instructed by Synnøve to get to Jostenberg by the end of the month, and they only had about two and a half weeks to do so. It was normally a month-long hike from their current location, according to Ros, so they well and truly had to haul ass to get there before the beginning of Septombre.

Malin had evidently received some information about the mission via the radio communications system that Ros had strapped to her back, but she had only started to share some of the details last night.

Their destination was Jostenberg, that they had already known, but Malin had deigned to provide some more details about it last night. Lukas had heard the city's name before, but he hadn't known too much about it. As Synnøve had said, it was a coastal city that sat on the shoreline of the Rjuhelle Ocean. It was protected from the occasionally wrathful nature of the sea by a tall seawall built of solid stone. Nina had whitened when she'd heard this; her own prophecy from Synnøve had told her to avoid seawalls at all costs.

Jostenberg was a city of about 200,000 people, but the majority of them had been driven out either during the Expansion or during the intensive Union occupation in the eleven years since. Only about a fifth of the city's original population still remained, which had only helped the Union to consolidate their control over the tired, frightened masses. Jostenberg was a very important city, not least for the fact that it provided access to countless other cities by sea and also possessed lots of secret trails that could be used by rebel guerrilla groups. It sat at the middle of countless old trading routes.

It was strategically vital, but it was also an aim of the rebels to free it because of the 40,000 people that still lived there. The city's remaining population had consistently displayed support for the rebels and a willingness to stand up to the Unionists when necessary. As if all this weren't enough to convince rebel leaders to try and claim the city, it would also deal a heavy blow against the occupational soldiers who currently held 99% of all major cities on Fynkn. To claim even a single city as their own would show the Union that the rebels weren't there to play.

It was a plan that had been in the works for a while now, Malin had explained. The most senior management in the Fynknian rebel forces had been involved. Kommandor Galina Hansen herself had helped plan the attack that was set to be carried out at the start of Septombre. As guerrilla fighters were considered among the most talented of all Fynknian soldiers, most squads had been commanded to head to the city and lend their aid to the fight that was set to commence in the next few weeks.

For all of the planning that Malin had told them had gone into the attack, though, Lukas had felt sicker and sicker the more he thought about it. He'd felt a sense of impeding dread settle onto his shoulders, and it had only grown stronger the more they had travelled. As much as he had tried to shake it, nothing had dispelled the feeling. Even Matthias' warm reassurances had done nothing to loosen the leaden weight. Sighing, he paused in his robotic trekking to tighten one of the laces on his boots. They were spread out in a single-file formation today, and Lukas was stuck near the back of the pack. Matthias was somewhere up near the front, and Lukas hadn't missed the odd, regretful grimace on the bounty hunter's face as he had wandered away from Lukas earlier.

Straightening up, Lukas froze, body becoming completely still as he heard heavy footsteps nearby. They were walking through the woods, so he wasn't exactly in the open, but he still tried to move as quietly as possible as he slid towards a tree and pressed his back up against it. He pressed his lips together as the footsteps drew closer. They sounded…off; completely unlike a normal person's walking. He let his powers snake free and sweep the area.

There was nothing human around, but that didn't necessarily mean he was out of danger. His abilities finally felt something living nearby. It was…old. That was all he could glean. The rest of the creature's mind was completely shut off to him. His thoughts went blank in shock. He had never encountered a mind that he couldn't read even a little. Even normal animals weren't immune to it, not entirely.

The footsteps started up again, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he heard heavy panting. Glancing to the side, he went completely still, taking every last bit of effort to not gawk in shock.

It was a wolf, but not like the normal grey wolves that were dotted around everywhere on Fynkn, or even the massive polar wolves they had up north near the Hrinnskél tribes. It was huge, and though not necessarily bigger than the polar wolves of the north, it easily out-sized any normal grey wolves that would be found in this sort of area. It had thick fur in alternating shades of black and white, with seemingly random slashes of colour across it's body. It's large maw was stuffed full of wickedly sharp teeth, and as it lowered it's head slightly, he could see that it's eyes were a bright, unnatural shade of gold; it was the sort of colour that would better suit a Syhvvanian human than a Fynknian wolf. It's sharp, strangely intelligent gaze was fixed straight on him, and he took a cautious step back as it slowly approached.

Its tail was unusual, too. It was long and smoky, and Lukas couldn't quite identify where the tail ended and the air began. They seemed to blend into each other. The creature had scars raked across its muzzle, along it's thick, furred hide and all along its legs and neck. The tops of one of its ears had been nicked off. Clearly, this was a wolf that had been in a lot of fights.

It wasn't growling as it approached him, but its hackles were raised, and Lukas could tell it was poised to attack at any time. Swallowing heavily, he took another step back. He really didn't think that, in a hand-to-hand fight with this thing, he would walk away as the victor. Looking at it's lean body now, it was clear how strong the beast was. Snapping his neck or tearing through his neck would be as easy as breathing for this thing.

But despite it's frightening appearance, it didn't seem to want to kill him outright. If it did, it was sure taking its time doing so. It was approaching him carefully. It was wary, he realised with a shock, wary that he was about to strike, too. He removed his hands from his sides, where they had been poised by his weapons, to hover harmlessly in the air. Unsure of why, he shoved his abilities down, where he couldn't use them easily.

The wolf lowered its hackles, relaxing a little and approaching him faster. It paused maybe half a metre from him, and Lukas found himself inexplicably struck by something familiar as he stared at its bright eyes. He cocked his head to the side, and after a moment, the wolf slowly mimicked him. His breath caught in his chest as his mind was abruptly assaulted by an old memory; his own hand, small and delicate, stretching upwards to touch the soft fur of a wolf's jaw. He stared at the beast in front of him as he carefully, ever so carefully, extended his hand.

The wolf watched his hand until it was motionless, hanging in the air as an invitation. Slowly, it stepped forward again, tilting its head towards his extended fingers. He felt the barest brush of fur on his fingertips-

"Christensen! Where are you?" the wolf drew away with a snarl as he heard Faena's shout from maybe thirty metres away. It turned quickly, more quickly than a normal animal would have been able to, and bounded away. Lukas stared after it, lowering his hand as it vanished completely from sight. A moment later, the branches nearby parted and Faena emerged, her teal hair a little tangled. "There you are." She said. "Malin wants us to regroup up ahead." He nodded. She frowned at him after a moment. "You okay? You look a little out of it." Lukas shook himself slightly.

"I'm fine. Just tired, I guess." Faena smiled at that.

"Aren't we all?" she said. "Come on, the Captain should hardly be kept waiting." Nodding, he crammed his hands into his pockets as he trailed after her, feeling a shiver go down his spine as he felt the weight of a wild, golden-eyed gaze on his back.


	33. Didn't You Know?

**Hello indeed! I'm somehow back! And I'm currently working on Chapter? 37? How the actual fuck did I manage to get ahead of my schedule. We may never know, but hey, updates will be consistent for the next three weeks at least! :DDD**

 **Thank you so much to those select few that reviewed the last chapter! I always love hearing from you guys, and I am so excited to show you all the next few chapters. I worked really hard on these, and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them.**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Alfred asked Francis to accompany him and Arthur on the mission to free a slave. Francis agreed to do so.**  
 **\- Feliciano attended lessons with Tori and Emilia, and learned some interesting things about royal eyes.**  
 **\- We got an update from Riya again, who has befriended some of her squadmates but does not mesh well with others**  
 **\- Yao experienced auditory hallucinations and psychosis and found himself struggling to carry out some of his normal duties. Octavia is concerned about him.**  
 **\- Lukas met a GOOD DOGGO**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Domestic violence and child abuse, bloody/gory injuries and mild medical procedures.**  
 **\- Mild sexual references and references to other forms of violence**  
 **\- Foul language, as per usual**

 **Please review! :DDDDDD**

* * *

 _The Im Estate,  
Lesser Manju, Xexei,  
16th Augynt_

Lovino had only worked for the Ims for about a week when he figured out why every servant in the house didn't like them. Or, at least, more specifically, why they didn't like Master Kyeng.

To his own shock and mild disgust, Lovino had taken to the role of server and doormat very well. Rosalinde's continuous warnings had melted away almost entirely, and though he was glad to not be nagged, he was mortified by the thought that the reason was his increased obedience. He was the heir to the throne of a planet that had opposed slavery since years had started with the number '2'. Syhvva's legacy as an anti-slavery advocate was long and industrious, and here he was bowing and scraping and submitting to the thing. It felt wrong, and he had kept himself up more night than one thinking about it.

It was the art of self-preservation, that was what he told himself. Disobedience here resulted in punishment, as it would in most slave-owning households, and it was pointless to act out only to receive harm in return. Rebellion on his part would hardly get him, Eladina and Lili set free, so there wasn't much point to it. Kyeng seemed to be especially concerned with whether Lovino would be obedient, but the Xeir man seemed to be satisfied after the first few days of Lovino's complete muteness unless spoken to, diligent work and following of orders to a T.

Yong Soo, the youngest member of the family, had seemed fascinated by Lovino's appearance. He had outright approached him and poked at his hair, mouth agape, one morning as Lovino had been sweeping the base of the stairwell. He had politely ceased his sweeping and stood still as the teenager obsessed over his appearance. Yong Soo had released him after his mother had appeared in the doorway and told him to leave Lovino to his work, shooting him a kind, apologetic smile as she had ushered him out of the room. Lovino had simply bowed his head respectfully and returned to his task.

Ji-Ho had displayed a passing interest in his ethnicity, but as a whole seemed entirely devoted to studying. He spent a lot of time locked away in his room, even more so when his father was home. As Henrique had explained when Lovino had asked, Kyeng put a lot of pressure on his sons academically, especially Ji-Ho. The elder son was outstanding in the fields of economics, technology and science, but had apparently been lagging somewhat in his language and linguistics studies. The guy seemed wired for equations and numbers, but Kyeng didn't seem to appreciate that his son couldn't excel in all areas. As someone who understood what that unbearable, suffocating pressure was like, he pitied the man a lot.

Ha-yoon had so far distinguished herself as the politest and least demanding socialite Lovino had ever encountered. She had taken care to learn every new servant's name in the first few days of being back, and every time he was sent to do an errand for her, he was greeted with a joyful "good morning, Luciano!" whenever he entered her chambers. She was his favourite by far, and he had questioned how someone so kind had ended up with someone as strict as Kyeng. As Henrique had explained, many noble and trading families on Xexei still engaged in arranged marriages. Ha-yoon and Kyeng were one of them.

The other servants were alright, too. Rosalinde, having eased off lecturing him constantly, could actually be a good conversationalist when she so chose, and actually took the time to explain things rather than expecting him to figure it out like some other people around here, which he appreciated a lot. He still spent most of his available time with Eladina and Lili, but he was slowly warming up to some of the people here.

His duties were a little more intensive now that the Ims themselves had to be catered to, but so far, he had predominantly served Ha-yoon and Yong Soo. On a few occasions, he had cleaned Kyeng's chambers and delivered food to Ji-Ho's doorstep, but he hadn't really interacted with either of them yet. Kyeng's offices and the family's bedrooms were all on the third floor of the house, which Lovino barely ever went up to. He was happy to maintain a distance between himself and the rich family, though. Ha-yoon was sweet, and Yong Soo was very cheerful, but he still couldn't trust them.

So, when Rosalinde had asked him to go to the third floor and do some dusting, as well as clean all of the mirrors, he hadn't exactly been ecstatic over the thought. He had obeyed though, because there was little more he could do. Luckily for him, Kyeng had taken his work downstairs for once, which meant Lovino got to avoid him. He had passed his legal owner on the stairwell, and gotten leered at for a moment as they had passed one another. That had only made him more grateful that he wasn't going to be stuck alone with the man. Ji-Ho was still off studying in his room, but he almost never emerged, so for the first two hours, it had been a very quiet job.

Rosalinde had come to do some cursory sweeping with him and they had worked in companionable silence. The peace had been disturbed, however, when they had heard Kyeng speaking to Ha-yoon below.

"I _told_ him to better his grades! That boy is a disgrace!" the man had snapped at his wife, who was obviously trying to offer a number of platitudes to calm him down. Rosalinde halted her sweeping immediately, her face turning an ugly colour.

"Oh no." she whispered. "His grade papers. I was going to wait until he was in a better mood to give them to him. Why are they early?" she spun around, the skin of her face turning grey. Lovino stared at her, feeling dread churn his stomach violently.

"Why is that an issue?" he murmured. "I know Kyeng is strict, but…" he trailed off and bowed his head respectfully as the subject of their conversation appeared at the top of the stairs, expression stony. Lovino stepped away from the mirror he had been cleaning and picked up a duster, trying to look as busy as possible as Kyeng stormed past.

"Ji-Ho! Out! Now!" he said, tone harsh and furious. The door at the end of the hall, the entrance to Ji-Ho's quarters that rarely opened, swung away from the frame as the man in question stepped outside. His own face looked pale, though he seemed composed, and he clasped his hands together behind his back. His head was bowed, and though he outwardly seemed calm, Lovino could see the subtle pulse at his throat that indicated his heart was pounding right now.

The dread settled over him like a lead blanket as he turned his eyes back to the shelves he was dusting. Rosalinde had her head bowed too as she continued to sweep, though much more quietly than before. Kyeng held up the envelope as Ji-Ho approached him. "What is this?" he said something in Xeir, but the tone was harsh enough that Lovino knew it was some kind of insult. Kyeng smacked his son on the side of the head with the bundle of papers, expression etched into a scowl.

Ji-Ho didn't even try to defend himself or make excuses as Kyeng ranted onwards, alternating between the Common Standard and Xeir as he spoke, hands gesturing wildly. The man just stood, head bowed and hands clasped behind his back as he bit his lip and stayed silent.

"Can you provide a reason for why your marks are such utter shit?" Kyeng said, switching back to the Common Standard so fast it nearly gave Lovino whiplash. Ji-Ho hesitated, then shook his head.

"I…do not think I am well-accustomed to the study of linguistics, sir." He murmured, eyes turned away. Kyeng stiffened, practically glowing in fury as he stared down his son. When Ji-Ho next raised his gaze, Lovino made eye contact with him. Something in his gaze looked resigned. Lovino's stomach turned over.

"Not well-accustomed…?" Kyeng muttered, tone malevolent. There was a moment of complete silence as the father stared down his son. Lovino and Rosalinde had both completely given up the pretence of doing work as they watched the interaction. He realised what was going to happen a moment before it did, but it didn't make it any less shocking when Kyeng swung his arm up, seized his son by the left side of his head and slammed the other side of his head into the mirror hanging on the wall.

Lovino jumped as it happened. Ji-Ho made no sound other than a small, sharp intake of breath. Rosalinde winced and Lovino found himself openly gaping in horror as Kyeng released his son, who staggered slightly before righting himself. The right side of Ji-Ho's head had shattered glass embedded into the side, and there was blood running down his neck from the injuries. Lovino recalled, with horror, the thin, raised scars he had seen under the man's hair when he'd first been introduced, and wondered exactly how regular an occurrence this was. Ji-Ho didn't indicate that he was in pain, and just blinked as his father gave him a look of utter disgust.

"Improve your marks." Kyeng spat. Lovino forced his mouth shut and schooled his expression into something as neutral as possible as Kyeng turned on his heel. "Clean this mess up." He spat at Lovino as he passed, marching down the stairs with purpose. Lovino stood still with shock for a moment before he looked over at Ji-Ho. The man was gripping the shelves for balance, blood dripping in slick rivers down his neck and the side of his face, staining the white shirt he was wearing. Rosalinde approached silently and bent down to start gathering the broken pieces of the mirror. Lovino stared at her in horror. How could she be focusing on the mirror, and not the guy who had just been glassed in the face?

One of the warnings she had given him in the last few weeks surfaced even as he stared in dismay at the gory wounds on the side of the man's head. _Matters of the family are always best left to the family themselves. Interference will not be appreciated or tolerated._ He bit his lip, sliding past the injured Ji-Ho and glancing out the window. He spotted Kyeng outside, clambering into his chauffeured car. He was leaving?

"Master Kyeng often likes to go out at night." Rosalinde said, tone purposefully neutral. He turned back around as she looked up at him, jerking her head at Ji-Ho. "Were you listening, Luciano? Master Kyeng told us to clean the mess up." Realising what she was saying, he carefully extended an arm to Ji-Ho, who hesitated a moment before taking it. He escorted the injured man down the stairs, to one of the lounges. After making sure he was seated and not about to keel over from shock or blood loss, he ducked in the direction of the kitchens, where he knew they kept their first-aid kits.

He realised his hands were shaking as he entered the kitchens. Henrique, who was on duty, gave him a curious look. Lili waved at him from the stove, though her expression dropped when she saw the look of horror that must have been plastered across his face.

"I need the first-aid kit." He said. Henrique flinched, and Lovino knew the man understood what it was for. Nodding, Henrique opened one of the many cabinets and removed the large box, handing it to him.

"You have the medical training to handle it?" he asked. Lovino nodded.

"Yeah, I can do stitches." He murmured. Henrique closed his eyes briefly, an expression of pain crossing his face almost too quickly for Lovino to see. Henrique nodded, then also opened another drawer, pulled out a torch, and handed it to him.

"You might need this, too." Lovino nodded, turning on his heel and hurrying back upstairs to where Ji-Ho was still seated on the lounge. He moved carefully to sit around the side where the damage was, and flicked the torch on, pointing it at the bloodied side of the man's head. He winced. There was a good amount of damage there. Opening the first-aid kit, he immediately extracted a bottle of disinfectant, needles and thread for stitches and tweezers along with a small metal dish.

Picking up the tweezers, he winced. There were some very visible pieces still sticking out of poor Ji-Ho's head, but there were likely others hidden underneath that he couldn't see. Regardless, he set to work, carefully removing the most visible pieces and dropping them into the dish. Each one made a small clinking noise as it did so, and Lovino had to stop himself from wincing every time. After all of the most visible pieces were gone, Lovino closed his eyes briefly. It was a risky move on his part, but he didn't see any way to get all of the glass out without using at least a little of his telekinesis.

He carefully probed at the area with his mind and fingers simultaneously, using the tweezers to extract the embedded pieces as quickly and painlessly as possible. Once he was satisfied that there was no more glass in the injury, he picked up the bottle of disinfectant and doused one of the towels from the first-aid kit. He gently pressed it to the wound, aware of how much it must hurt as he carefully cleaned the cuts. Ji-Ho didn't make a sound, though. He clenched his fists at times, but not a single whimper of pain escaped his lips. Lovino frowned, feeling even more sorrow surge up inside, and with it, burning hatred for Kyeng Im. The only way someone learned to be so silent when they were in so much pain was to have it driven into them not to make a sound time and time again. Ji-Ho was used to this; that was why this was so horrifying.

He was careful when he finally came to doing the stitches, not applying too much pressure on the sensitive skin as he navigated the mess that the mirror had left behind. The final product was depressingly reminiscent of the thin scars that the man already had. Lovino closed his eyes briefly, wondering if Kyeng had a love of hurling his children into mirrors or if they were from something equally as cruel. He packed away the medical supplies as Ji-Ho tentatively raised a hand to touch the injuries.

"What is your name, again?" Ji-Ho asked. Lovino started in surprise as he stared at the man.

"Luciano, sir." He said. Ji-Ho nodded.

"Thank you, Luciano." He mumbled. Lovino nodded.

"Sleep on the other side of your head, sir. I'll check the cuts again tomorrow." Ji-Ho nodded, getting to his feet. He swayed slightly but waved Lovino off when he stepped closer to him, frowning in concern. Lovino stood back, supplies stacked up in his arms, as Ji-Ho turned on his heel and marched back upstairs. Sighing deeply, he wandered back to return the supplies to the kitchen. This was a fucked-up family indeed.

* * *

 _Sanderrum Valley,  
Leirfjord Region, Fynkn  
18th Augynt_

"I must say, we really are making quite good time, all things considered." Ros commented as Matthias peered over her shoulder at the map she was holding. "I mean, we're already in Leirfjord, so we really don't need to be setting as punishing a pace as we are." Matthis gave her a look.

"Can you please tell Malin that, then?" he said, indicating their Captain, who had chosen to lead the group today. She was visible about fifty metres ahead of them, back straight and pace unfaltering. He didn't know how she managed to do it, but he supposed she had been part of the resistance and its military-like layout for a lot longer than the rest of them. She was well-accustomed to constant physical activity. Ros shook her head fondly, smirking at Matthias.

"Trust me, if I could get Malin to slow down a little, I would. She's dead set on being in Jostenberg for the attack. It's quite important, but I suppose she does also have an ulterior motive of sorts, as well." Matthias raised a curious eyebrow at this as Lukas appeared on Ros' other side.

"I'm sorry, ulterior motive? I'm curious to hear this." He said. Matthias grinned at Lukas, chest warming at the sound of the teen's smooth, deep voice. He made eye contact with the prince for a moment, and found himself smiling happily at him. Lukas blinked, looking a little surprised, and Matthias found his stomach fluttering when he saw a faint flush on Lukas' cheeks as he turned back to Ros. He forced himself to also turn his attention back to the spunky girl as she laughed at the question.

He had probably embarrassed the Fynknian, he thought glumly. After all, they'd had a bit of an awkward morning earlier.

Matthias was a tactile person, that was a fact. He was always hugging or high-fiving people or giving them loving punches or clapping them on the back. He didn't do well with trying to be professional and keep his hands to himself. Being tactile was how he showed affection, and it always had been. Even his unconscious mind ran along the same thread of seeking out physical touch to gain comfort and help him relax. He'd had a bizarre dream last night; it wasn't necessarily frightening or traumatising, but it had been just unsettling enough that he must have sought out comfort in his sleep.

This had unfortunately resulted in him being awoken by an elbow to the gut, courtesy of Lukas. The reason behind said elbow had been that he had somehow managed to wrap his arms around Lukas and hug him like a teddy bear in his sleep. Lukas, being the one who had woken up first, had been the one to discover this predicament, and had been trying to nudge Matthias awake for a solid ten minutes before the elbow to the gut succeeded.

Perhaps more horrifyingly for Matthias, his realisation about their position had been preceded by two unbearably embarrassing thoughts. The first being that Lukas smelled really good – he had figured this out because his face had been pressed into the crook of Lukas' neck – and the second being that he liked being pressed up against the Fynknian _waaayy_ too much. Lukas was very warm, after all, so sleeping next to him was like sleeping next to a space heater. He was also, admittedly, very attractive, and waking up with your arms wrapped around a very attractive person was always a pleasant experience.

Matthias was personally just thankful that the dream he'd had was just a bizarre one. He couldn't even imagine how much more awkward things would have been if the dream was sexual in some way. After all, he was a man, and his body loved to react to stimuli like that. The thought of waking up pressed against Lukas under those conditions was…not as unpleasant as it should have been. His mind had wandered down a very strange rabbit hole earlier, mostly concerning the rare possibility of Lukas reacting _well_ to such a thing and…yeah, Matthias had slapped himself out of that as quickly as possible.

Being put in close quarters with anyone was basically a guarantee that one's thoughts would be more dominated by that person than usual, Matthias thought. It was completely normal for his mind to think such things, as embarrassing as they were. Luckily, Lukas didn't seem to have any interest in reading his mind whenever the whole scenario decided to stick it's head out of hiding. The prince would probably blush himself into an early grave if he had bothered to poke around in Matthias' head that morning.

Matthias was very glad that Lukas respected people's privacy. Very glad indeed.

He turned his attention firmly away from Lukas and towards Ros as she spoke.

"Yeah, kinda. I've heard rumours that one of the higher ups is really into her, and that she's into them in return. It's mildly fascinating to me." Without warning, Nina appeared out of nowhere, jumping forward to throw one arm around Lukas' shoulders and the other around Ros'. Matthias ignored the inexplicable twisting in his gut when he saw Lukas smile slightly at Nina as she grinned energetically.

"Sorry to intrude, but is this Malin's love life we're discussing? Because I am so here for that."

"That's a little invasive of you." Matthias turned as a voice spoke up from his side and saw Faena walking alongside him, Birgitte trailing after her with Sigurd walking nearby. Nina grinned at Faena.

"Oh, come on, Fae, it's not doing any harm!" she exclaimed. Faena rolled her eyes, but grinned good-naturedly. Matthias heard an annoyed huff, and turned to see Hans throw his signature glare at Lukas for daring to interact with Nina before actually joining in the conversation.

"And here I was thinking that the big human chain was for something useful." He grumbled. Matthias rolled his eyes at the sour man as Nina giggled.

"Oh, come on Hansie, talking about the Captain's love life _is_ useful! We need to be sure that whoever they are is actually worthy of Malin, after all!" she exclaimed, tapping a finger against her chin thoughtfully. "Though we can't do that until we actually know who it is. Any chance you could wrangle that information out of her, Faena?" Faena gave Nina a deadpan look.

"Nina, my abilities aren't strong enough to let me actually read minds, I've told you this. I can tell when people are lying, communicate telepathically and detect emotions, but that's about it. I'm not a real Bondevik, so I don't have the same capabilities." Nina stared at her a moment.

"So…that's a no?" Faena sighed.

"It's a no." she said firmly. "Even if I could read minds, I wouldn't. It's an invasion of privacy." She sent Ros a pleading look. "Can't we talk about something that's actually worthwhile? If we're going to completely destroy our walking formation, we might as well talk about something relevant." Nina huffed in displeasure as Ros snorted.

"Sorry Nina, but I do have to agree with Faena's assessment there." She chuckled. "Okay, anyone have something relevant to talk about?" there was a moment of silence before Matthias raised his hand. Grinning, Ros raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes?"

"Half of the conversations we have I am completely lost about." He deadpanned. "I mean, the resistance told me some stuff before I came but not nearly enough, so, I'd appreciate some explanations." Ros grinned.

"Well alright then. What do want clarification about?"

Matthias thought for a moment. "Okay then. Who the hell is Galina Hansen, and why should I care?" Ros laughed at that.

"Wow, they really sent you in blind, huh?" she teased. She nodded at Faena and Birgitte, who had drawn level with her sister. "Well, the twins would know that best. Why don't you guys explain?"

Faena sighed, shooting Ros an unimpressed look. "Right, yeah, dump the whole explanation thing on us, I see." She clicked her tongue, glancing over at Birgitte. "Galina? Well, we actually know her quite well. She was a researcher in the military, and she dedicated her research to studying genetics. She did a few focus studies about the _lahjöf_ , actually. Got published in scientific journals and everything. She was in Haugøra City when the Expansion happened, and she managed to lay low for quite a while. The Union targeted members of the military at the time so it was dangerous to even affiliate with the research side of it. Eventually she got out of Haugøra and joined up with some of her military buddies up north. They all started to form the first whispers of a rebellion. Since Galina was the best leader in the group, she sort of became their de facto head."

Matthias glanced at Lukas, who looked rapt with attention as Faena continued. Of course, no-one had any real idea what exactly had happened on Fynkn immediately following the Expansion, so it was no wonder the prince was so fascinated.

"She really built it up over the next few years, and ended up starting a good chunk of it. she's basically been one of the heads of it from the very beginning. She helped develop the scale and revolutionise the technology behind the Balmain readers, so there's that, too." At Matthias' blank look, Faena chuckled. "They're devices that can essentially measure how closely linked to the royal family a person is. A non-Fynknian person like you would score a zero. Normal civilians tend to get anywhere between 1 and 300, though most don't score above 200. Noble families score roughly between 300 and 700, since they have historical genetic ties to the royals. A score from between 700 to about 880 is for what we call 'Upper Noble' families. They're basically families that have had Bondevik relatives within the last five generations or so. Anything between 900 and 1200 is the average for a normal Bondevik. 1200 to 1500 is for an exceptionally powerful one, and anything above that basically means that they're crazy powerful, unusually so."

"Uh huh!" Nina jumped in. "The scale goes up to 2000, but 2000 is the highest _theoretical_ score. The highest possible score would be something like 1950, if I remember right. The highest score on record was King Delmar's. I think he got like, 1700 or something."

"1731." Faena corrected, and her expression shifted slightly. "And, yeah, that's technically true." Nina raised an eyebrow as she looked at Faena.

"What do you mean 'technically' true? Is there something you aren't telling us?" Nina said it half-jokingly, but their entire squad was leaning towards Faena, looking curious. Faena glanced at her sister, who bit her lip and shrugged.

"Well…I really shouldn't be spreading this. It was off the books so I don't know that it even counts…" at their collective looks of open eagerness, she sighed in resignation. "Okay, okay…well, Galina's research back in the day was about the _lahjöf_ , yeah? Well, if you're studying the _lahjöf_ , you kinda need the cooperation of the people who can use it, so back in the day, Galina used to speak with King Oskar about them. They found her research interesting, so they invited her to the palace a few times so she could conduct her experiments." Faena sighed. "Now, as you all know, the prince and princess are our second cousins. When Lukas was four, the King and Queen asked her to use her meters to measure his levels and get a scale on it."

"What did he get?" Ros asked, looking fascinated by the story. Matthias glanced at Lukas, who also looked curious. Faena quirked an eyebrow.

"According to Galina, somewhere in the mid-1800s." Faena said, allowing a moment of silence to let the shock of that number sink in. Even Lukas looked a little disoriented by that number, and Matthias watched as the Fynknian turned his head away, brow furrowed.

"Holy shit." Sigurd said, mouth agape. "That's…that's unbelievable." Faena nodded.

"Yeah, it was pretty insane." She said. "Would have been good to see exactly what he could do."

"Wait a minute." Ros spoke up, frowning. "Why did the King and Queen ask Kommandor Hansen to measure him when he was so young? Don't they do standardised readings at age 10 and 20? Why in the system would they ask her to do one when he was four?"

"Oh, a Hellig showed up at the palace one day and spent an hour entertaining him, apparently." Faena said nonchalantly as everyone but Lukas and Matthias' mouths dropped open. Matthias blinked in bewilderment. He had heard the word 'Hellig' before, but mostly as a footnote to other information that Octavia had crammed into his head. It was a word from the old Fynknian tongue, he could identify that much. Faena noted his confusion and sighed.

"I swear to the saints, Matthias, your ignorance is really undermining the gravity of my dramatic revelations." Matthias pouted.

"Sorry I don't have this whole culture committed to memory." He said dryly. "Go on, then, what the hell's a Hellig?" Faena gave him a good-natured smile as she continued.

"You ever seen our planet's royal insignia?" she asked. Matthias nodded. It was a pretty distinctive thing; crossed swords with etchings of massive wolves curled around the sides with snarling jaws agape. "Well, the Hellig are our planetary animal, so we stick them on a lot of things." Matthias blinked.

"Okay, cool. What actually are they, though?" he inquired. Faena grinned.

"It's hard to explain because no-one really knows." She scratched the back of her head. "No-one knows if they're animals or spirits or what. They're physical beings, but they've been around on this planet for 9000 years by now. They don't age or reproduce – at least in historical memory – and they don't die either. They look like wolves? But, like, magical wolves."

"Your descriptive ability is blowing my mind right now." Matthias deadpanned. Faena smacked him in the arm and continued.

"Okay, fuck you. They're wolves, but immortal, super-strong, sacred and low-key magical wolves, alright?" at his nod, she continued. "There are nine of them, some older than the others. They're linked to the _lahjöf_ , too. No-one knows how or why. They're deeply connected to the history and spirit of Fynkn as a planet, so they're considered hugely important to basically all Fynknian people. Each of the Hellig is different and represents different things to our people. They have set physical appearances, though you see some more than others."

"You know the specifics?" Matthias said, impressed at the depth of her knowledge. Faena nodded.

"Oh yeah. I had it drilled into me as a kid. If you want the general facts, well, they're very selective and also quite violent, for the most part. No-one but the royal family is ever allowed to touch them, and even some royals have gotten snapped at in the past. Them truly liking a member of the royal family is basically seen as the hugest endorsement of someone's suitability, reliability and integrity. On occasion, they choose to actually bind themselves to a royal." She sighed. "You wanna hear about the whole process?"

Matthias nodded eagerly, surprised at how interested he actually was in this topic. Faena nodded. "Okay, well, a royal who gets 'bound' to a Hellig is called a _Kompanjongen_ , or 'companion' in the Common Standard. They're revered above normal members of the royal family. They share emotions and thoughts with the Hellig they're bound to, and they essentially spend their lives together. They defend one another at all costs, too. Hellig live on after their companions die, of course, but they can be desolate for years afterwards. I'm not too sure about the specifics of the binding process, but it involves a blood transfer, I'm pretty sure."

Matthias made a face. "Yikes." Faena shrugged.

"Eh, temporary discomfort for a lifetime bond with a magic wolf? I'd do it." Matthias inclined his head slightly. He could understand the reasoning there.

"You said there were nine of them?" he asked. Faena nodded.

"Yup; Formynder, Vidunder, Lurepa, Dyrebar, Stjerner, Stolthet, Herlighet, Eterisk and Fortapte." Matthias blinked at the array of Old Fynknian words. "If you want an extended explanation I can tell you later, but the basics are that Herlighet and Fortapte don't really do much; Eterisk is basically never seen; Stjerner, Stolthet and Lurepa seem to do their own thing; Dyrebar is the gentle one that non-royals can touch, the only one, mind you; Vidunder will rip you limb from limb without hesitation, and I don't even need to tell you about Formynder because no-one's seen her in a thousand odd years." At Matthias' questioning look, she shrugged. "Formynder is the oldest of them. We call her the Hellig-Mor, or 'sacred mother' in Old Fyn. She's the most reclusive of them all, and also their mother/leader." Matthias nodded, digesting the new information as they all walked together.

"That's kinda cool." Faena nodded.

"It is, honestly. The Union tried to capture some of them back when the Expansion happened. They got Stjerner and Lurepa, if I remember right, but they lost them the next day. Apparently, they found the cage bars ripped right open." She shrugged. "Formynder might not let people see her but she's still there, and she is their mother. Mothers are protective of their children. Vidunder is famously violent so they didn't even bother with him, and the others seem to have evaded capture in other ways. They have two at the Lilleden base, I think. That's the main headquarters." She added. "It's stupid to try and force a Hellig to do anything, though."

"I can imagine. I doubt anyone would want to fight a giant wolf with 9000 years worth of experience." He joked. Glancing over at Lukas, though, he was surprised to see an oddly drawn look on his face.

"So, they just let them wander free?" Lukas asked a moment later. Faena shrugged again.

"Well, the Hellig that went to the palace wasn't ever identified, but given that everyone went into lockdown mode, I'm pretty sure it was Vidunder. Only he's violent enough to warrant that sort of reaction. There are some trackers who check up on Vidunder on occasion. Some think it'll lead them to clues about the royal family. After all, if he was drawn to power once, it could happen again, right?" Lukas nodded.

"What does Vidunder look like, anyway?" Matthias asked, seeing the unasked question resting on Lukas' face.

"Oh, he's quite large, I think. The biggest other than Formynder. Black and white fur, golden eyes, scars galore." She smiled. "Something along those lines."

Matthias glanced over at Lukas, frowning when he noted a strange tension on the prince's face. He was about to approach him and ask what was wrong when he heard Malin up ahead.

"I'm sorry, is that meant to be a formation?" she asked incredulously, staring at them. "What are you all blathering about, anyway?"

"Just educating Matthias on the finer points of Fynknian culture!" Faena said innocently. "I'd hardly want him wandering around obliviously, right?"

Malin clearly didn't believe her for a moment, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

"Get back into formation, all of you." She said, tone amused. "We have a long hike to Jostenberg yet."

Matthias grinned as they all grumbled and shuffled back into their old formation. He glanced over at Lukas, who still had a pensive look on his face. The prince caught his eye as the front of their loose line started to move again, and Matthias shot him a wry smile. The corner of Lukas' mouth quirked slightly, and Matthias shoved his hands into his pockets, hoping to get to the bottom of what was bothering him later.

* * *

"So, wait, you actually _saw_ one of them?" Matthias asked him incredulously. Lukas bit his lip, nodding slowly as Matthias sat back a little, gaping at him. For someone who had only learned exactly what the Hellig were that afternoon, he had grasped their importance very easily. Though he did seem a little thick at times, and _just_ happy enough to come off as ignorant, Matthias really was far more intelligent than Lukas gave him credit for. It was one of the reasons why Lukas even felt comfortable telling the bounty hunter about the creature he had seen in the first place.

It seemed hard for him to grasp the fact that they managed to get along the majority of the time now. Their first proper meeting had been marked by bickering and insults hurled at a rapid-fire pace, yet now, just two months later, they were sitting in their tent together, heads bent close to each other as Lukas explained an occurrence he otherwise would not have wanted to share. It was almost unbelievable how much he had come to trust this plucky Rywanese criminal.

And he really _did_ trust Matthias. Not just to watch his back during a fight or not stab him in his sleep, but with other parts of himself too. His worries about their training, his nightmares and past…really, Matthias had somehow come to stand second only to Emilia in terms of how much the other knew about him, which seemed inconceivable considering the way they had acted the first few weeks they had known each other. But it somehow didn't feel odd in his mind. Objectively, he knew it was probably unwise to place so much trust in the other man, but he almost did so unconsciously.

"I mean I think so. It exactly matched the description of Vidunder that Faena gave us." He shrugged. "I mean, he was the Hellig that I encountered when I was a child, so I suppose it makes sense I would see him again."

He had initially been unwilling, completely, to talk to anyone about the wolf he had encountered. Because what good would it do? And who, other than Matthias, did he even trust enough to tell? He had only caved and explained it to the blond because he knew that the older man would figure out that he was troubled sooner or later. The knowing looks he'd received earlier as they had been talking of the power scales and Hellig had driven it home, though. Somehow, Matthias had figured out how to read the miniscule tics and tells on his face that exposed what he was feeling.

He tried to keep things in perspective, obviously. Lukas liked to remind himself that Matthias was here only so he could fulfil a deal he'd struck with Yao and free his friends. He wasn't here because he wanted to be, or because he even believed in the resistance's cause, though he didn't think he had imagined the horror and disgust on the blond's face when they had spoken to Malin about the remains at Mankjer Village.

The point was, Matthias was here out of obligation, not desire, and after he had done his job, he would leave, return to Nyma, collect his friends and vanish like most bounty hunters did when they were between jobs. They wouldn't see each other again after this, most likely, which was why it was so unwise of Lukas to be trusting him so much. Matthias was _going to leave_. That was a certainty.

He couldn't understand why that idea bothered him so much.

It really did, though. He actually enjoyed spending time with the bounty hunter, and he appreciated the man's determination to do his best even when placed in a situation he hated. It really was admirable. Even the rolling, accented sounds of his Fynknian had become oddly familiar and comforting. He had come to trust the over-excitable, witty and surprisingly brave man in front of him, and Lukas didn't trust easily.

"I mean, maybe the thing is interested in you?" Matthias murmured, tapping his chin with a finger. "Like Faena was explaining to me." Lukas raised an eyebrow at that.

"Doubtful. I'm not particularly special, so I can't fathom why any of the Hellig would be drawn to me."

"Ahh, don't sell yourself short, I'm sure any of them would love to spend their whole life with you." Lukas blinked in surprise at that, and watched as colour flared across Matthias' cheeks. "Ahh, that was cheesy. Kindly forget I ever said that." Lukas suppressed a smile, then made a striking gesture with his hand.

"Struck from the record." He murmured. Matthias grinned, and Lukas felt warmth build in his chest.

Even if he was going to leave, Matthias still didn't have any set date for his departure, so he was going to be on Fynkn for the next few weeks at least. The other man certainly didn't seem to be giving the deal he'd made as much thought as Lukas was. For now, Lukas decided, he would just focus on what was happening now, and appreciate the small moments like this one that had somehow made being in a warzone bearable.

"We should get some sleep, huh?" Matthias murmured, smiling lazily at him again. Lukas nodded, rubbing at his eyes.

"Yeah, good idea." He muttered. They didn't exchange any more words as they extinguished their lamp, shuffled around and slid under their own blankets. Lukas couldn't suppress the smile that broke out over his face when he heard Matthias' mumbled words.

"G'night, your majesty." The bounty hunter murmured. Lukas forced the expression down, shaking his head in the dark.

"Goodnight, peasant." He responded coolly, pressing his face into the folds of his blankets as he heard Matthias chuckle in amusement before silence slid over them, and sleep took hold.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
20th Augynt_

"A mission to free a slave, huh?" Feliks mumbled as he ran a hand aimlessly through Tori's hair. "That certainly sounds like it would be an interesting ride." Tori laughed under his hold, vibrating ever so slightly as she did. She tilted her head back to look at him, and he grinned at her. She smiled back, shuffling around a little so she could lay her head on his chest. He continued his absent ministrations as she sighed, settling into her position. Feliks smiled.

He had enjoyed a surprising amount of freedom in the last few weeks, and every second of it had been welcome. He felt like Tori's position here in the Resistance, and his connection to her, were the only reasons why he had been allowed so much liberty, but even if that was the case, he wasn't complaining. He hadn't tried to push the limits of his newfound freedom, and he mostly went everywhere with his girlfriend in tow. At times when she was occupied, he tended to wander aimlessly and explore a little, but he had never attempted to do more than that. As valuable as they were, he didn't feel too inclined to go and sell the resistance's secrets.

He leant his head back, closing his eyes briefly. He and Tori had spent the day rather lazily, in all honesty. Tori had done some training on her abilities early in the morning, which Feliks had managed to drag himself out of bed to watch, but after that they had mostly spent the day exploring the camp and talking with one another. Right now, they were lying on top of her bed in her tent, both on the verge of sleep, as much as they might deny it. Feliks wasn't opposed to spending the days lazily. A whole day spent spending time with his girlfriend? It was honestly ideal.

He had been surprised when she had brought up the subject of an upcoming mission to rescue a slave from their owner. It did sound interesting, like he had said, but he was unsure of the whole thing. It felt like taking too close a step towards helping the resistance. He'd already been told that Francis was onboard, but Francis hated slavery with a vindictive passion, so Feliks couldn't blame him for trying, at least in a small way, to destabilise the industry.

But for Feliks personally, he felt like him making a move to help the rebels would be the straw that broke the camel's back. Their whole team was fracturing into pieces, and Feliks didn't know how to stop it. Alfred, Gilbert and Tori were firmly in the rebel ballpark, Matthias was off on a frozen hell of a planet trying to win their collective freedom and other members of their group seemed to be starting to cave. Even Vash hadn't been seen around the cells lately.

Francis' passion for fighting slavery was something matched by the resistance, and as much as the Rywanese man might be trying to fight it, Feliks knew how alluring similar belief systems could be. Louise was missing her brother and wanted the freedom the others had been granted, and Feliks could predict Antonio going the same way soon enough. Berwald had been as inscrutable as always, but the stoic man had been going to the training grounds especially often lately, and Feliks didn't think he had imagined the lingering look the tall man had shot the fiery sniper they had met months ago.

The more time passed, the more they were being assimilated with the resistance. Their own strong bond as a group was breaking down in the face of overwhelming pressure, and Feliks had no idea what giving in to that pressure would entail. Though his friends seemed content, he hadn't forgotten the initial plans the rebels had had for them. Cooperation or death. That was their ultimatum. Feliks didn't want to die, but he wasn't so sure that he really wanted to join the rebels either. Politically speaking, he preferred to keep his head down.

Hell, his whole life he had tried to keep his head down. It had been trained into him from the minute he could walk that speaking up and speaking out was a bad idea.

And a part of him wanted to throw off that mantra. A part of him wanted to pick up a gun and say that he would fight for the rebels. He agreed with them on their most vital policies, after all. He had his friends here, and given that so many of them were being swayed to the rebel cause, he would likely have all of them if they were all just honest about what they were thinking and wanted. Even Matthias, who was the most unflappable of their whole group, didn't like the Union if only through virtue of his younger sister and upbringing.

But keeping his head down had kept him alive thus far, in situations where he really shouldn't have survived. There was merit to it. He absently reached up to run a finger along the long, thin scar that lanced across his throat. For a moment, he closed his eyes again, remembering the sensation of cold steel biting into his skin and hot blood pouring down his chest. His ears rang with old screams, and his eyes snapped open as he forced the memories away.

And there it was. He wanted to go home. It was something he had desired for a long time, but never done. It was a dangerous thing to do, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why his waking mind was so keen on going back. Perhaps to see if there were any apologies or regrets to be offered at his feet. Probably not. He really was being foolish if he was expecting anything along those lines. He pressed his lips into a thin line. His home had only ever served as a reminder that peace was a fiction, and that nothing lasted forever.

He sighed as Tori sat up a little, frowning at him. He bit his lip. He did hate to see her looking so concerned, especially when he was the cause of such concern.

"You okay?" she asked. He nodded quietly, tucking a stand of hair behind her ear as she furrowed her brow. He knew that she could see through it. He knew he should explain why he sometimes went rigid and darkness clouded his eyes. He should explain why he wanted to go home but should never feel that way at the same time. He knew he should explain the scar on his neck and why his lip curled with distaste whenever he heard the name Melek spoken aloud. But he didn't. He wasn't brave enough yet.

Tori seemed to realise she wasn't going to get another answer from him, so she leaned over and gently kissed him on the lips. Feliks slid a hand up to gently cup her head, leaning into the contact. Nothing lasted forever, but he was going to try and make this last as long as possible. When they separated, he bit his lip. He shouldn't duck his head and try not to stir the waters. He was his own person, and so were his friends. Their decisions were theirs to make. He sighed, hoping he wasn't condemning the only group he had ever really trusted.

"I'll go on that mission." He murmured "Freeing a slave's a good thing no matter who it is who's doing the freeing." Tori beamed at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I can go tell Yao tomorrow." She said, voice warm. Feliks smiled at her as she tucked her head under his chin.

Nothing lasted forever, but he was going to do his best with this one.


	34. I've Got Your Back

**Okay so? Not only do I have up to Chapter 38 all written but? I have every chapter until the end planned out completely? What the fuck is this? Whatever demon of productivity and competence has possessed my body, you're welcome to stay, buddy.**

 **Moving on~**

 **This story is looking to end up as very long, may I just say, probably about 51 chapters. Yikes. Also, I have officially passed a milestone on the word doc I write this in. I have exceeded 300,000 words! Holy shit!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lovino discovered that the Im household is an abusive one. Poor Ji-Ho got his head acquainted with a hallway mirror.**  
 **\- Matthias got schooled in topics including Galina Hansen, Balmain readers and the Hellig (magic doggos!). He and Lukas are both crushing on each other but are tragically unaware of it.**  
 **\- Feliks agreed to go on a mission to free a slave on Xexei**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- References to child abuse and domestic violence**  
 **\- Sexual references and the usual swearing**  
 **\- Depictions and discussions of mental illness, including depression, psychosis and bipolar disorder**  
 **\- disGUSTING levels of DENNOR can I get a FUCK YEAH**

 **Please review guys!**

* * *

 _The Im Estate,  
Lesser Manju, Xexei,  
22nd Augynt_

Lovino didn't know how he hadn't yet exploded in fury or resentment. He was making no conscious effort to suppress the urge to attack or not be sharp-tongued and curt, yet his behaviour had remained controlled and calm for the last week. He had a sliver of an idea as to why his head-bowing and silence was coming even easier than before, but the idea that being stuck here was reviving something inside him that he thought he had long ago crushed was unsettling him more than he cared to admit.

He had tucked his chin down and murmured responses back when he was a child and he feared the wrath of his grandfather's sharp words or sharper hand, and the idea that watching Ji-Ho be knocked around by his own father was making that timid, frightened behaviour resurface made Lovino sick. He had taken a while to acknowledge that the behaviour he endured at the hands of his grandfather was abuse, but being exposed to open, unashamed violence was startling.

At least, in the case of his grandfather, Romulus had resorted to words first and only moved physically when he was truly enraged. Kyeng Im, on the other hand, seemed to see violence as a primary form of discipline, with words used as careless afterthoughts. Lovino didn't know why he bothered to talk. Often, Ji-Ho was too dizzy, pained or disoriented to even recall the correct date after being hurt, much less the lecturing remarks his father left him with.

Yet somehow, the man didn't snap or snark or frown at anyone. He spoke to servants respectfully and Lovino had more than once seen him giving Yong Soo gentle advice about his playing on the pianoforte, as well as kindly complimenting his mother's tailored clothing. He somehow remembered Lovino's alias from when he had helped him, and took care to sit still and always thank him after he had checked the injury and applied dressings.

But the look behind Ji-Ho's eyes betrayed how much he was suffering. Lovino couldn't fight away the memories of dark and resigned melancholy or the wrenching sorrow that sometimes passed over the man's face. He also hadn't missed the slightest glimpses of scarring along his forearms that showed the man had chosen to take his frustrations out on himself rather than on the man who deserved them.

Rosalinde had pulled him aside to explain the whole situation after he had finished patching up Ji-Ho the week before.

Kyeng was an extreme disciplinarian, and violence was his go-to. He had never laid a hand on Ha-yoon, but he did tend to even hit Yong Soo a fair amount. Ji-Ho, however, suffered the brunt of the abuse. The two brothers had been told their whole lives to focus only on becoming excellent businessmen and traders. In Rosalinde's own words, they weren't allowed any distractions. They weren't allowed to visit family outside of regular, twice-a-year visits, they weren't allowed to make friends with anyone, and they most certainly were forbidden from forming romantic or sexual relationships.

"Kyeng would lose his mind if one of them were to be so much as kissed." Rosalinde had muttered bitterly as the two of them had cleaned the kitchen after-hours. "He seems determined to drill it into them that they shouldn't seek pleasure in any form, least of all in sex. He's the biggest hypocrite you'll ever see."

That was something Lovino had deduced for himself. Kyeng told his sons not to seek any form of romantic or sexual relationship, but he reportedly had cheated on his wife so many times it was essentially sport to him. He spoke of gambling like it was a divine sin, but rather enjoyed dallying around casinos, by the admission of his own servants. He made the lives of his children miserable while he enjoyed all of life's finest pleasures. He was an amazing businessman and trader, Rosalinde had reluctantly admitted, but he was unspeakably cruel to everyone save his wife.

"Not even servants can escape his wrath all of the time." She had said. "That's why I drilled so many things into you before. I don't mean to generalise, but I know what Syhvvanians are like. You're a combative people who don't take well to having your freedoms stripped away. I didn't want to watch you suffer when you could adapt instead." He had grudgingly accepted that answer. Rosalinde did mean well, but she was certainly a bit more of a 'tough-love' person than he had expected.

Keeping his head down was doing him good so far, though. He had gotten a good look at what the rest of the house was like, now that Rosalinde seemed to trust him enough to expand his duties. He still got leered at by Kyeng, but he was mostly left alone when he was working. It wasn't ideal, and he treasured the few moments where he got to speak to Lili or Eladina, but it wasn't completely terrible, either.

Since he had seen the worst of what the family had offered, at least so far, they no longer seemed opposed to having him clean their chambers. He was expected to be a ghost while working, hearing nothing and focusing entirely on his task. That didn't stop him from eavesdropping on important conversations about trade and current affairs and even a few interesting tid-bits about the resistance while he was at it, though.

He had also accumulated a fairly good understanding of Ji-Ho's major academic failings, too. Like Rosalinde had already told him, the guy was basically a prodigy in the areas of mathematics, economics and technology, but he lagged in linguistics. His father had been forcing him into endless lesson after lesson on Jhobrasian, since Jhobras itself was such a major trading power in the Galaxy. Lovino didn't understand the huge fuss. Most traders or financiers spoke the Common Standard, anyway, and even if they didn't, top-notch translators were always available. The emphasis on learning the language itself was bizarre.

Kyeng himself fluently spoke the eight languages of the biggest trading planets in the Galaxy, though. There was his native tongue, Xeir, and the Common Standard, of course, but he had added Reycausian, Yanish, Jhobrasian, Relusian, Pyndaphian and Misori to his arsenal as well. It was certainly impressive, but Lovino would wager that Kyeng didn't have even half of his son's skill for commerce. Everyone had different skills in different areas, and expecting someone to be good at everything was ridiculous.

Lovino couldn't stop himself from projecting ever so slightly onto the situation. His own grandfather had emphasised perfection and penalised failure heavily. But regardless of whether he saw something of himself in Ji-Ho, that didn't make Kyeng any better a person. He was a monster, and Lovino wouldn't think any different even if he hadn't been through something similar.

The first week of non-abuse that Lovino had witnessed was, apparently, uncommon, because the number of arguments and physical altercations between Kyeng and his children skyrocketed after the mirror incident. Lovino had witnessed servants ducking into the kitchen to fetch brooms and the first-aid kit, wincing in pity all the while, countless times since. It was disturbing.

He, nonetheless, had been an idiot to get himself into his current situation.

By Rosalinde's account, Ji-Ho's study could only be disturbed once a fortnight for the servants to clean his room, and only one was permitted to enter at a time, too. She had bitten her lip and asked, in a very resigned way, if anyone was willing to undertake the task of cleaning the poor man's room, all the while being silent as a mouse and fast as lightning. After a long, tense few minutes of silence, Lovino had seen the pain in Rosalinde's eyes, and volunteered reluctantly. He'd had cleaning supplies stacked precariously in his arms as he was shoved up the stairs and slipped into Ji-Ho's room.

That was where he was now, trying to dust as quietly as possible, shooting anxious looks at Ji-Ho all the while, trying to ascertain if he was being too loud. The man had hardly glanced up when he had entered, too absorbed in the work before him. Lovino had recognised the sheets as he had slipped past him. They were papers for Jhobrasian verb conjugation, which was famously difficult for someone with even an in-depth knowledge of the language.

If Kyeng really wanted his son to be fluent in Jhobrasian, he really shouldn't be throwing shit like that at him until he had a good grasp on the basics, but it wasn't like Lovino had the power to change anything. Glancing at the papers, he winced. He himself was fluent in Jhobrasian, since that was the ethnicity that he and Feliciano had posed as for most of their time on the run, and he had to wrap his hand tightly around the handle of his duster to resist the urge to wander over, take the pen and complete the exercises. He would have found them easy, but he had been fluent in the language for years. For a beginner, Ji-Ho was tackling some advanced stuff.

Lovino turned his attention back to his task as they both worked in silence, Ji-Ho's pen scratching along the paper and Lovino's duster making subtle swishing noises as he cleaned the tops of the man's cupboards.

He heard a door slam far below, and he could tell just from the way Ji-Ho's shoulders stiffened that Kyeng was home again. He had a habit of setting his son difficult linguistics tasks, leaving for maybe an hour or so and then returning ready to kick Ji-Ho's ribs in if he hadn't finished them and gotten everything right. Lovino looked over at Ji-Ho, whose face had gone a nasty colour. He flinched as he heard Kyeng yelling for his son. Ji-Ho sighed, frame etched with resignation, leaving his work on the table as he stood and darted out the door.

Lovino stood, completely frozen, for a very long second as he contemplated his options. He would get in a ridiculous amount of trouble if caught, but if not…

The pen was in his hand before he could recall walking over to the desk. Examining the paper, he hurriedly conjugated the last of the words listed, doing his best to mimic Ji-Ho's immaculate handwriting. He skimmed the answers the man had already written, nodding when he saw that they were all actually correct, tossed the pen back on the table and fled back to his task.

He had only just recommenced his dusting as the door opened and a sullen Ji-Ho walked in, picking up the sheet and handing it to his glaring father without glancing at it. Kyeng snatched it from him, warranting a wince from Ji-Ho, and looked over it. There was a moment of complete and utter silence as Lovino continued to quietly clean in the background of the tense exchange. Kyeng huffed, then hurled the sheet back at his son.

"So, it seems you have a small measure of competency after all." He said, voice gruff. "What a miracle that is." Kyeng turned on his heel and marched outside, slamming the door shut behind him. Ji-Ho, who had the paper clutched to his chest, looked completely bewildered. Lovino gave him a sidelong look as he unfurled the crumpled paper and looked at it.

Ji-Ho's brow immediately furrowed in confusion as Lovino finished up his dusting, and the man seemed to be in a state of complete shock for a moment before he raised his head and stared straight at Lovino. Paying the attention no mind, Lovino dumped the duster back into his handy bucket of cleaning products and stowing the bucket a safe distance away. He straightened up, clasping his hands behind his back. Ji-Ho was still looking at him, expression flabbergasted.

"Would you like fresh sheets, Mister Ji-Ho?" he asked calmly, grasping his hands more tightly to stop them from shaking. Ji-Ho pressed his lips together, still looking like he was having trouble comprehending what had happened. After a long moment, he finally seemed to realise that he had been asked a question, and nodded numbly.

"Uh, um, yes, please." He muttered. Nodding, Lovino moved to start stripping the bed. There was another moment of silence before Ji-Ho spoke again. "…You're fluent in Jhobrasian?" Lovino turned his head, nodding slightly as he dumped the dirty sheets on the floor and picked up the pile of clean ones he'd been given from the washroom. "…Do you have any idea how much trouble you would be in if my father knew?" Ji-Ho murmured, tone urging caution. Lovino paused, shrugging as he continued to put the fresh sheets on the bed.

"Well, from one beaten child to another, I think I would be able to handle whatever he threw at me." When he had finished putting the sheets on and replacing the covers, he turned around. There was a look of intimate understanding on Ji-Ho's face as the Xeir man nodded. Lovino clasped his hands behind his back again. "Is there anything else I can do for you this afternoon, Mister Ji-Ho?"

The man shook his head. Lovino gathered his supplies again, having finally finished all of his assigned duties. He was almost out the door when he heard the fearful, whispered words.

"Thank you, Luciano." He paused briefly, only deigning to nod in Ji-Ho's direction before slipping out and closing the door behind him.

* * *

 _Kidnar Rook,  
Leirfjord Region, Fynkn  
23rd Augynt_

Matthias was fairly certain that he was going to die of poor hygiene before any Union fighters could get anywhere near him. He could understand, of course, that since they had to stay under the radar and move as quickly as possible, it wasn't always possible for them to stay anywhere long enough for them to get to wash themselves, but Matthias was reaching his tipping point.

He had, in the past, normally distinguished himself as the person who could best tolerate dirt and grime. His room on their ship had always been messy and unorganised, to the eternal dismay of Louise and Gilbert. He could deal with avoiding a shower for days if necessary, though he didn't go out of his way to not be clean. The fact was, he had a high tolerance for bad hygiene, whether it was his own or others'. But right now, he was reaching his _fucking_ _limit_.

He wasn't the only one, too. The breakneck pace they'd set to get to Jostenberg on time meant that they ended most days sweaty and exhausted, everyone collapsing into their respective tents without the time or energy to clean themselves. In addition to generally just being too exhausted to wash themselves off, there was nowhere to do it. They had avoided rivers since they were traditionally common sites to find Union death squads and other soldiers hell-bent on killing guerrilla fighters. Most of their water they got from clean chunks of ice and sleet that they boiled and then poured into their canteens. They definitely did not have the water to clean themselves.

As if these weren't solid enough barriers to them all maintaining decent hygiene, they also had no feasible means of cleaning themselves. They couldn't exactly do so inside their tents, and if they poured water all over themselves outside, they were sure to get frostbite. It was a lose-lose situation. Matthias really just wished that he could wash his hair properly. The amount of dirt and oil in his hair was making it look brown rather than its usual blond.

Lukas didn't seem quite as bothered. When Matthias had asked why, the Fynknian had shrugged.

"I grew up on the streets a lot, so showers were well and truly a luxury there. I used to go a good two months without one, back when I lived on Reycass. It's only been a month for us, so I'm good so far."

"That's kinda gross." Matthias had commented. Lukas had simply shrugged again in response.

"That's war for you." He had responded coolly. Matthias hated how right he was. He didn't care too much if that meant he wasn't 'suitable' for the military. He would rather be unsuitable and clean than suitable and filthy like he was.

Thankfully, their pace had been allowed to slow down, finally, back to what it had been before. They were only about three or four days from Jostenberg now. Their rapid pace earlier had worked, but Matthias was endlessly glad that they were able to relax a little more now. Malin had also let them walk in a much closer formation recently. Since there were going to be more Unionists wandering around, it was better if they were to be ambushed as a group rather than individually. They all walked with their hands resting on their weapons now, ready to whip them out and fight if necessary.

Matthias sighed as they trudged onwards. He was walking alongside Lukas today, which was a huge upside, but Nina was walking on his other side. He really liked Nina, he did, but he had also come to miss the quiet moments he'd gotten with Lukas back at Blå Ren. She was very talkative, and though Matthias certainly liked talking, he also appreciated the peaceful moments he got to spend just walking alongside the prince. He was strangely relieved when Nina darted off to talk to Hans. He had been able to feel the other man's glaring the entire time that Nina was walking with them, and he couldn't even imagine how sick of it Lukas was getting.

"Thank goodness." He muttered. "I thought my skull was going to end up with a hole drilled through it." he saw the corners of Lukas' mouth quirk upwards in amusement and, buoyed by that reaction, shot a look over his shoulder. "Hans really should work in construction. _Great_ at boring holes into things." Lukas bit his lip, obviously smiling now.

"A true entrepreneur in the area of laser technology." The prince joked. Matthias snorted. Hans' behaviour really was absurd. He was a grown man getting all jealous over a nineteen-year-old. Matthias shook his head. There was no way Lukas and Nina would ever become a thing, even if the prince was into her. Nina was 23 years old, the same age as Matthias, and an age gap of four years in a relationship might be a little iffy for some people, especially if one person was still technically a teenager. He didn't know why his own stomach felt like it'd had lead dropped into it when he thought about that. He shook it off and grinned at Lukas again as they continued walking.

The sun was sinking rapidly beneath the horizon by the time Malin gathered them all and told them they were going to stop for the night. Matthias sagged in relief at this, and quickly unpacked his and Lukas' tent from his back. The prince sighed, moving to help him set it up. He had initially taken Lukas' quip about him always carrying the tent as just that – a quip. But he had found himself carrying it every day anyway. Lukas had offered to take it about three days into their wilderness trek, but Matthias had shrugged it off. He was the physically stronger of the two, after all.

It was a relief to crawl inside and collapse with a groan once the thing had been propped up. He felt Lukas poking gently at his leg.

"You're lying right in the doorway, you know." He teased. Matthias groaned, reluctantly sitting up and shuffling further inside as Lukas followed him. He could hear Lukas rummaging around in his bag as he tucked his own face into the warm folds of his jacket, sighing sleepily. He felt a gentle nudge again, and opened his eyes, greeted by the sight of some of the long-lasting food they had been given. He wrinkled his nose, but took it with mumbled thanks. It wasn't great, but he knew it was important to eat to keep his energy levels up.

"Make sure to get good sleep tonight!" they heard Malin call out outside the tent. "We've got a good hike tomorrow!" Matthias groaned at that news, flopping back onto his back as he continued to munch on his meagre dinner. Lukas made a face.

"Wonderful." The Fynknian sighed, also choosing to flop onto his back as he looked over at Matthias. "This week just keeps getting better and better." Matthias snorted, nodding in agreement.

"I guess we should do what she says, huh?" Matthias sighed. Lukas nodded after a moment of hesitation, rummaging around in his things again and extracting something.

"Yeah, gimme a few minutes." He murmured. Matthias frowned, sitting up in interest as he watched Lukas unwrap the package. It was a small, battered-looking book, with a blunted pencil tucked inside. Matthias blinked in surprise, throwing the prince a curious look.

"What's that for?" he asked. Lukas stared at the page for a moment, scratching his head briefly before twirling the pencil around in his hand.

"I like to write down what happens each day. Where we go, what we see, the like. It's a form of laziness, really. This way, when Emilia inevitably asks me what happened, I can just hand this over rather than explain." Matthias couldn't help but grin.

"That's kinda cool." He said, peering over his shoulder. "What sort of stuff have you written in there?" Lukas shrugged as he flipped back a few pages.

"Lots. Here's from four days ago." He cleared his throat. " _Malin woke us up by kicking through the door and smacking us with the butt of her rifle. We passed Vemm Tor at about midday. I don't know why everyone is so obsessed with the damn thing. It's literally a big rock that, in my own opinion, looks like a chicken head. We saw some deer. It made me fucking hungry. Matthias somehow managed to fall down a very visible ravine_." Matthias gaped at him indignantly.

"It was accidental!" he exclaimed, pouting a little.

"It was hilarious, so I included it." Lukas said smugly, flipping back to the current page and starting to write. Matthias huffed, folding his arms. He relaxed a little when he saw the amused smile on Lukas' face. At least the prince was enjoying himself here. He looked at the journal thoughtfully.

"So, you're writing this whole thing for your sister?" he asked. Lukas paused, shrugging.

"Well, it's nice to keep a record of everywhere we've been, I think, but I do also think Emilia would appreciate it." Lukas tapped the pencil absently against the paper. "We have the same sense of humour, so I believe she'd find it amusing." Lukas looked over at him. "You two would get along, I think." Matthias smiled, even as he found his own mood turn a little melancholy.

"Damn, I miss my sister too." He sighed. Lukas paused again, looking at him with surprise.

"…I didn't realise you had a sister." He said after a moment. Matthias smiled slightly.

"Ah yeah, I guess I don't really tell you much about my family, huh?" he leant back a little. "You want me to tell you about them?" Lukas stuck the pencil behind his ear, looking at him.

"If you're willing to tell me, then of course." He said. Matthias grinned.

"Well, where to begin?" he scratched the back of his head. "My mother's name is Anitta, and she's basically simultaneously the most loving and terrifying person you could meet. She basically adopted every single friend I made from primary through to high school. You should have seen Feliks when he met her. She looked ready to ask for adoption papers right there and then." Matthias shook his head fondly. "She's where I got my love of hugs, honestly."

Sitting up properly, he hugged his knees, smiling as he lost himself in describing his family.

"My dad's name is Bjørn. He's pretty much the opposite of me, honestly." Matthias chuckled. "He's a pacifist to the letter, and basically addresses every situation with words rather than violence. He's pretty low-key, most of the time, other than when he's telling me to find someone nice to settle down with." He laughed. "He smiles a bunch but hearing him laugh is a very rare thing." He nudged Lukas. "So, like you if you smiled on a regular basis."

Lukas frowned gently, nudging him back. "Hey, rude." Grinning, Matthias continued.

"And then there's my little sister Ivaana. She's the real interesting one of the family. She's only 14; her 15th birthday's in Novymbir. She's actually adopted, though." Lukas nodded curiously.

"Where from?" he inquired.

Matthias hummed thoughtfully as he mentally worked out the distance in his mind. "About 600 kilometres north of here." At Lukas' shocked look, he blinked in surprise. "She's Hrinnskél? I assumed that Yao would tell you that." Lukas frowned.

"Why would Yao tell me that?" Matthias shrugged.

"My whole family learned fluent Fynknian to help her keep a small part of her culture alive. Yao only chose me to come here because he found out about her, and he thought my linguistic skills would be useful." He saw Lukas flinch slightly at that, but he didn't have the chance to question it before the prince was asking another question.

"I thought shielding off-world Fynknians attracted a heavy sentence?" Lukas asked, watching Matthias carefully. He shrugged.

"It does. 20 years imprisonment minimum."

Lukas was completely silent. Matthias bit his lip, hoping he hadn't managed to offend the Fynknian somehow.

"Why in the system would they risk so much?" Matthias shrugged.

"Well, Ivaana was the daughter of some old friends of theirs, but, well…" he trailed off, pausing, "…speaking honestly, they really don't give a shit what the Union says."

Lukas retrieved the pencil from behind his ear and started to fiddle with it. "Why?"

"They aren't fond of slavery, as well as a lot of the Union's policies. I mean, neither am I." he said. "Business is business, but I'd rather not give the Union what it wants if I have the choice. You don't have to be in the resistance to resent what they've done to certain planets." Lukas was watching him, expression oddly gentle. Matthias raised an eyebrow after a moment. "What?" Lukas shook his head.

"No, it's nothing. Tell me more about your sister." Smiling at the recommendation, Matthias gladly obliged, sharing stories of his little sister right from the moment they'd adopted her to the last time he had seen her. It made his heart pang a little; he really did miss her a lot. It felt good to share, though. He playfully nudged Lukas and urged him to reciprocate once he was done spilling stories, and after a moment's hesitation, Lukas also obliged.

Matthias didn't recall ever wanting to meet a person just from hearing about them, since he was a sucker for first impressions, but the way Lukas spoke about his sister was really making Matthias want to meet Emilia Bondevik. It was clear how much he loved her. Lukas' whole face seemed to light up under the cool exterior, and Matthias could practically feel the warmth in the Fynknian's voice.

An irritated slap on the outside of their tent, courtesy of Malin, told them that they should probably go to sleep, and they both settled into their sleeping bags with smiles on their faces.

* * *

Lukas had been sleeping through the night for three weeks now, so when he jerked awake at what must have been some sort of ungodly hour, he was bewildered as to why. He hadn't had any bad dreams; if anything, they'd been surprisingly pleasant, but he was awake anyway. He heard a groan from beside him and saw a shift in the very little available light as Matthias sat up, yawning sleepily.

"Wass goin' on?" he mumbled, words slurred and tired. Shaking himself awake a little more, Lukas did an ungraceful shuffle to slide out of his sleeping bag, kicking it off his legs with little dignity before crawling towards the tent opening. Pushing the flaps open, he blinked in confusion when he at first saw nothing, before he abruptly came face to face with Faena. His second cousin pressed her hand against his mouth before a shout of alarm could leave it.

"Shhhh." She murmured. "Do you want Malin to wake up?" he pressed his lips together as she carefully removed her hand. He gave her questioning look, and she shoved him backwards gently as she half-crawled into his and Matthias' tent. Matthias, who looked significantly more awake now, looked completely bewildered. At his questioning look, Faena again held a finger up to her lips. "You guys gotta be quiet." She murmured, voice so quiet Lukas had to strain to hear it.

He frowned in confusion. If there was some sort of enemy in the area, then she would be more panicked. He could see a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Are you guys fed up of being all gross and dirty?" she murmured. Lukas and Matthias exchanged a look, before both nodding slowly. Faena grinned. "Excellent. Come with me." Still baffled, they both followed her out of the tent, taking care to muffle their footsteps as much as possible as they moved through the thin layer of snow on the ground, slipping into the tree line as they both followed Faena through the woods.

Once they were a certain distance away, Faena stopped masking her footsteps and started walking normally. She grinned over her shoulder at them, an action Lukas could just barely see due to the bright sheen of the moon. "Okay, sorry for that confusing mess." She said, still speaking quietly, but much more audibly. "Birgitte and I got a little insomniac and did some peeking around. I think you'll like what we found."

Still confused, Lukas decided to trust the teal-haired girl as both he and Matthias trailed after her. They shuffled down a small gully, ducked under a low-hanging tree branch, and Lukas sighed a breath of relief when he felt the ground levelling out a little. Faena glanced back at them. "Notice anything odd?" she asked. Lukas frowned, glancing around until he realised. The air was…warmer, more humid around here. Faena grinned as she grabbed them both by the arm and hauled them out of the tree line. Birgitte, Sigurd, Ros, Nina and Hans were all standing on a long shelf of slate that jutted out seemingly into the night air. Lukas squinted. The air in front of the ledge was cloudy.

It was steam, he realised as he approached the edge and peered over, looking down in deep pools of water. Faena and Birgitte had found a hot spring.

Faena clapped her hands together, grinning madly. "Isn't it great? We realised that we sit along the Eljandi volcanic line here, which would, by our logic, have at least one hot spring. The Leirfjord region is known for them, so it'd be a shame if we didn't take advantage of them."

"As glad as I am that you're found this." Hans said dryly. "Did you consider how we would manage to even reach it?" as much as Lukas hated to agree with him, Hans had a point. The ledge was a good fifteen metres high, and the rest of the rock walls surrounding the spring were steep and sharp. There was one path that looked like it could be workable, but it was clearly designed to act as an exit, not an entrance. Lukas looked down into the water again. It would be the perfect temperature to scrub away the grime on his body, and ease the aching in his tired muscles.

He glanced over at Matthias. The older man was staring into the water longingly. He recalled their discussion about hygiene earlier. He subtly reached out with his abilities. There were no jagged rocks hiding below the surface to rip their skin open. The spring really was a large, smooth rock basin, full of water being heated by the volcanic fault below it. Making his mind up, Lukas shook his head as he unlaced his boots and pulled them off.

"We can reach it, if you aren't all cowards, that is." He declared as he shucked off his jacket. The others turned to look at him, their eyes widening when they realised what he was doing. Matthias was staring at him, and they made eye contact as Lukas slid his shirt off. Nina wolf-whistled, and Lukas saw Hans, to absolutely no-one's surprise, glaring at him. Birgitte's eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed.

"Uhh, Lukas, I don't think that's a good idea…" she trailed off. Lukas ignored her, wriggling his toes in the sharp, cold air, stripped down to his underwear and more than ready to jump in the equivalent of a giant, hot bath. Ros, conversely, was grinning.

"Oh, fuck yeah, go man. If you survive, I'll come down right after you." She promised. Lukas raised a challenging eyebrow at her as he darted past Matthias and the others, ignoring Birgitte and Sigurd's shouts of caution, and leapt off the edge. He was only airborne for a moment before he was submerged under the water, and he let a smile cross his face as he kicked back up to the surface, feeling the heat immediately work its way through his muscles. The moment he surfaced, he heard a victorious whoop from Ros, who was now presumably stripping above. He tilted his head back, unable to resist the urge to flip the bird at Hans when they made eye contact.

"Move outta the way, Lukas!" he heard Ros yell. He swam backwards as Ros, true to her word, plunged into the water. She surfaced grinning and laughing, before also tilting her head back to look up at the rest of their squad, assembled above. "Come on, you cowards!" she shouted.

* * *

Matthias didn't think he had felt his heart stop so many times in such a short amount of time, and that was saying a lot.

It had happened first when he'd heard Lukas' remark about cowards, and turned to ask what he meant, only to be greeted by the sight of his friend and squad partner, stripping. That had been the first heart attack in miniature.

The second had come when he'd made eye contact with the prince as he'd divested himself of his shirt. The intensity behind his eyes, not to mention the marvellous accompanying visual display of lean, toned muscles, had again made Matthias' poor heart struggle to do its job properly.

The third time was when Lukas had jogged past him and hurled himself right off a fifteen-metre cliff. He was alright, obviously, and Matthias knew, objectively, that the prince would have checked if there were any hazards in the water, but it was still shocking to watch.

Once his poor heart had finally started working properly again, he almost gone straight back into cardiac arrest when he'd realised that his other teammates were stripping, too. Ros was the first over the cliff, happily joining Lukas in the hot water. Nina, squealing in excitement, was next. Hans, looking offended that his girlfriend was off barely dressed with someone other than himself, followed her.

Matthias only really started to get himself into gear when he realised that it was just him, Faena, Birgitte and Sigurd left on the cliff. Faena was looking off the edge, chuckling, as Matthias shrugged off his reservations and also started to remove his clothes. He saw Birgitte biting her lip, standing next to Sigurd.

"I mean, it looks lovely, but it's such a long way down…" she murmured. Sigurd nodded, looking equally reserved. Faena laughed as she finally moved to pull off her own jacket.

"Hold hands when you jump?" she suggested mischievously. Matthias grinned at that, walking back a few metres to get a decent run-up. Faena glanced over the edge for him, throwing him a thumbs-up. "You're good to go." Stomach turning a little anxiously, Matthias rocked back and forth on his heels before murmuring a silent _'fuck it'_ and running. Jumping off the cliff made his stomach drop, but the fall wasn't as long as he'd anticipated.

He found himself cloaked in warm water just a few seconds later, and he allowed himself a moment to appreciate the sensation before returning to the surface.

"Finally decided to join us?" he heard Lukas say. Smiling, he turned to face the Fynknian. His hair was mostly flattened from the water, but the locks around his eyes had been pushed back haphazardly. Matthias grinned as Lukas reached out and ran a hand through his hair. "So that's what it looks like flat." He teased. Matthias snorted, pushing him gently away, ignoring the warmth in his gut when his hand made contact with toned muscle as he swam after the prince to give Faena room to jump in.

A loud splash a moment later signified that she had done just that, and Matthias grinned at her as she surfaced, her ponytail drenched and weighing heavily. She shot him a smile in return before padding after Ros, who seemed to be trying to do an endless loop of backflips underwater. Snorting at the sight, Matthias swam backwards, shifting his weight so he could float on his back. He grinned when he caught sight of Birgitte and Sigurd above, looking ready to jump. He felt his heart melt a little when he realised that they were indeed holding hands.

"Okay, that's kinda cute." He heard Lukas murmur from behind him. He grinned at Lukas, nodding as they watched the two of them suck up their courage and jump down.

"That's very cute." He commented, turning to look at the Fynknian. "Why didn't we do that?" his tone was teasing, but he could have sworn he saw the slightest flush on Lukas' cheeks.

"Because you were too cowardly to jump off with me." Lukas replied. "Simple as that. Grow a backbone and I might allow you the privilege." Matthias laughed.

"Will do." He said, throwing a wink at Lukas. "I'll get right on that." Lukas sunk a little further into the water, so that only his nose and eyes were above the water. After a moment, the Fynknian rose up again.

"Are you worried?" he murmured. Matthias frowned slightly.

"Worried about what?" Lukas shrugged.

"Jostenberg. I've had a bad feeling about it ever since we heard that's where we were headed." Matthias inclined his head, shrugging.

"I mean, it's going to be a big battle." He said. "Looking at it optimistically might just be a little unrealistic." He made eye contact with the Fynknian. "Let's wait and see how it plays out when we get there, yeah?" Lukas was silent for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, I suppose." He murmured, tilting his body back so he could float on his back like Matthias. "Let's see how it plays out." They fell silent, eyes gazing up at the stars as they soaked up the warmth of the springs, enjoying their brief moment of freedom.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra,  
25th Augynt_

Ayshe shot Yao a sidelong look, tapping her foot nervously underneath the table. He had asked her to come to his tent so they could discuss the upcoming mission to free a slave on Xexei, but his behaviour had been strange from the moment she had entered. He had been trailing off randomly in the middle of sentences, only half answering her questions or even offering answers that were completely unrelated to the topic at hand.

His face had been oddly blank today, too. His tone of voice was flat, only slightly lilting upwards in a way that seemed to indicate confusion. As if this wasn't enough, he at times paused what he was saying, tilting his head sideways or looking at an empty stretch of wall as if something had caught his attention. Ayshe normally fell silent whenever this had happened, watching him with bewilderment. He had been acting…off for honestly a few months now, but this especially strange behaviour had only really started in the last three weeks.

She had spotted him standing on chairs and examining the smallest of nooks and crannies in his tents, mumbling gibberish to himself. His mood switched with frightening ease. She had watched him go from calm to frantic and full of panic and back to an almost troubling apathy within the space of maybe four minutes. It was making her stomach churn.

Yao had suffered from mental illness in the past, of course. While he had been recovering from his time on the Arbiter, Ayshe had witnessed him go through a depression that seemed more liable to kill him than his actual injuries. She had watched him spend two weeks in a state of obsessive energy and bravado and crash into a solid seven months of fatigue, sorrow and melancholy afterwards. Fresh off the Arbiter, she had watched him jerk at the slightest sound and mutter to people she couldn't see before he had recovered somewhat, and those incidents had ceased.

Point being, she had watched him go through a cycle of mental disturbances, but most of the time, that was because he was under extreme pressure, or in the case of the Arbiter, fresh off a ship that he had been brutally tortured on. She hadn't seen anything off with him other than the occasional depressive episode for the last four years. He had made huge leaps to stay stable after he was elected leader of the resistance, and he had maintained it, for the most part.

She wished that his recent odd behaviour, which she was increasingly believing was indicative of something serious, felt new and foreign. But it didn't. The muttering, the trailing off in the middle of sentences, the paying of attention to things not worth the time…it all felt very familiar, like she had seen this from him before.

The more she thought about it, the more certain she was that she had. Yao's mind was a brilliant one, but it also just didn't work quite right sometimes. It scared her to her core, because as she had realised, she had seen all of these odd behaviours in isolation, and shrugged them off. It was only now that they were appearing together that she was seeing how abnormal it was. She had dismissed signs that Yao was struggling before, and she didn't intend to do it again.

"Ayshe?" she turned her attention back to Yao, who was looking at her, eyes curious but face blank, head tilted to the side. She straightened up, looking at him expectantly.

"Sorry, I zoned out for a moment there." She said, smiling in a calming manner. "What were you saying?" Yao was still for a moment, looking like he didn't know quite how to answer that. She waited patiently, feeling her stomach sink further even when Yao jerked slightly and pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him before sliding it over to her.

"The list…" he trailed off, eyes swivelling around to look to his side, where there was nothing but empty space. Ayshe nodded, realising that this was something she would have to infer for herself, and picked it up. It was the list of tentative candidates to go on the mission to save the slave, Linh, from Nonpo-Sunhae, a large city on Xexei's Ikyeong Sea. It was a harbour city, known for being stuffed full of casinos and brothels.

It was set to be a hard mission. Kirkland had decrypted the coordinates that Barkhado Dirie had left him, and discovered the specific address they were looking for was the Ikcheok Casino, well known for being exorbitantly wealthy and also available only to the most prestigious of guests. It doubled as a ridiculously high-priced hotel and brothel, and it was common to see slaves used for sexual labour there. She winced in pity just thinking about the poor slave they were rescuing. Hopefully, the girl wouldn't have to spend much more time there.

Since they would have to infiltrate the casino under the guise of wealthy or prestigious guests, she doubted it was going to be an in and about mission. She ran her eyes down the list.

"Hmm, perhaps we should work out a specific plan of attack before we make any finalisations on the team? After all, if we're looking to achieve a specific purpose, we'll have to pick people who fit that purpose." She looked over at Yao, who was looking at her for once. He nodded absently.

"Yes, I suppose so." He murmured. "Good idea." Ayshe nodded again, pausing before gathering up the papers they had been considering.

"Why don't I work out the logistics?" she suggested, smiling. "You've been working a lot recently, after all." Yao didn't even look like he was listening, but he nodded again.

"Alright…" he trailed off. Ayshe bit her lip, rocking back and forth on her heels for a moment before ducking out of his tent. She pressed her eyes closed for a moment, breathing deeply to fight back tears. She felt like she was committing a betrayal as she started walking away, not towards her own quarters, but towards the medical tents.

Yao was a person who was eternally reluctant to accept help. He preferred to deal with things himself, and whenever he did get sick, either mentally or physically, his first words to her were often 'please don't tell Kabeeta'. And she never did, because she loved Yao, and she knew he was strong enough to deal with most things by himself.

This was a betrayal of sorts, she knew that much, but that didn't stop her from ducking inside the med tent, bypassing Matthew and Gilbert, who seemed to be working together on tourniqueting a nasty wound spurting blood on the leg of a young fighter. She approached Kabeeta, who was treating a vicious-looking infection on someone's shoulder.

"May I speak with you, Kabeeta?" she asked. The head medic looked up at her, expression clearing when she saw it was Ayshe. She nodded.

"Of course, though I'm afraid you're second in line. Octavia wants to ask me about the medical supply routes." Ayshe nodded absently.

"Well, Octavia can hear about this, too. It's serious." Kabeeta stilled, but nodded, handing her task over to a waiting nurse before disinfecting her hands and nodding towards her office. Octavia was already seated inside when they entered, and she smiled at Ayshe by way of greeting. Ayshe forced herself to give her one in return. She could tell from Octavia's expression that the Vice-General had noticed the strain behind her expression.

Kabeeta sunk into her chair, folding her arms and frowning in concern. "You said this was serious, Ayshe?" Ayshe sighed, rubbing her forehead with her hand for a moment before making eye contact with Kabeeta.

"Yao's mentally ill." She said, trying to ignore how her stomach twisted at finally saying the words. "And Kabeeta, I mean really ill. You and I have both seen what he's been like in the past. It's worse. Much worse." Octavia was frowning in concern, but Ayshe didn't note any surprise on her face. The woman sighed, then inclined her head.

"I honestly came to that conclusion as well." Octavia murmured. "He told me his family has a history of it, on his father's side at least. Anyone can see he's been acting off lately." Kabeeta nodded, face grave.

"I've noticed a few strange behaviours from him recently, too." She said, sounding resigned. "But it's not as easy as dragging him in here to get a diagnosis and put him on medication." Ayshe flinched, but she knew Kabeeta was telling the truth. "He's the cornerstone of this whole movement." Kabeeta continued. "If we remove him from the equation, even briefly, there's no telling what could happen. And if the other higher-ups got wind of the fact that he might not be mentally stable to lead? Some of them have resented him for years. Can you imagine what they would do if they had an opening?" Kabeeta shook her head.

"We can't remove him from his position or draw attention to his behaviour." Octavia said, sounding incredibly depressed about the whole thing. "We would destabilise the whole movement, and that's something we can't afford to do right now." She folded her arms, throwing Ayshe a bleak look. "Even with Lukas Bondevik on Fynkn, we still have three of the five Free Court royals here, and scouts out looking for another. Not to mention all of the intricate plans he's crafted for the bounty hunters and pirates we captured, and the hundred other schemes he's been cooking up." Octavia shook her head. "What the hell are we meant to do, then?"

They were all silent as they considered it. Kabeeta sighed deeply. "Ayshe, he won't be glad that you told me this." Ayshe bit her lip, looking away. Kabeeta straightened up. "Ayshe, Octavia, I think I'm fairly correct in saying that you are the two people that Yao trusts the most. You're also, thankfully, among the most capable of our soldiers and commanders." Kabeeta paused as Ayshe and Octavia exchanged a baffled look. "Take on as many of his duties as you can. Minimise the amount of time he's out and communicating with the rest of the resistance. Make any and all excuses on his behalf." Kabeeta closed her eyes. "We're going to hide this."

"What?!" Octavia exclaimed, jumping to her feet. "We can't just ignore that this is happening!"

"I know." Kabeeta said wearily. "But we have to keep the integrity of the Resistance in mind too. While you two focus on keeping this grand machine of a movement working, I'll try and get through to Yao behind the scenes. I'll do what I can to ascertain exactly what he's suffering from, and get him medication and treatment to handle it. We can keep the rebellion stable while ensuring Yao gets the help he needs."

Silence descended on them again as Octavia and Ayshe exchanged a look. Ayshe bit her lip, nodding ever so slightly. Octavia sighed.

"…Alright. But you need to take care of him, okay Kabeeta?" Octavia said. "This movement needs him."

Kabeeta sighed. "Don't I know it."


	35. Under Siege

**This chapter is an absolute doozy, guys. 13,000 words strong, and then some. Hope it doesn't drag too much! I'm rather proud of this one, and I'd like to pre-emptively say that you are welcome to yell at me in the comments when you're done :D**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lovino helped out Ji-Ho by using his fluency in Jhobrasian to complete the man's linguistics work. Ji-Ho was both shocked and thankful.**  
 **\- Lukas and Matthias bonded over stories of their families, and the whole squad got to unwind in a hot spring uncovered by Faena and Birgitte.**  
 **\- Ayshe told Octavia and Kabeeta that Yao is mentally ill, and the three of them have sworn to keep it a secret, with Ayshe and Octavia running the resistance while Kabeeta tries to help him.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Guerrilla warfare, gunfights, people getting shot, bloody wounds**  
 **\- Very brief attempted rape, swearing and mentions of torture**  
 **\- More UNBELIEVABLE amounts of DENNOR hecc yes**

* * *

 _City of Jostenberg,  
Leirfjord Region, Fynkn,  
27th Augynt _

Lukas knew they had arrived at Jostenberg long before they scrambled over the final, rocky ledge in their path and saw the array of vibrant stone buildings. He detected the scent of salt on the air a good twenty minutes before Malin had even told them to get ready since they were close. It had stopped him dead in his tracks for a moment. He hadn't been near the sea in years. Nyma was hardly aflush with lakes or oceans, after all, and a lot of places that he and Emilia had stayed on long-term hadn't really been coastal.

Aralos was essentially a massive desert, so of course there had been no oceans, and every planet before that, Incanda, Pyndaph, Misor…they hadn't gone anywhere near the ocean. Even Oslaholm, Lukas' home, was inland. It sat on the banks of a river, but the ocean was nowhere near it. He had almost forgotten what it was like, the smell of salt and water hanging in the air, and the endless expanse of blue. Given that they spent all of their time either training or navigating harsh mountain ranges, the same could be said for the rest of the squad.

So, when they finally hauled themselves over the last, rocky ledge leading to Jostenberg, they had all paused to stare at the vast stretch of water before their eyes. They didn't get a lecture from Malin like they had been expecting. Even their Captain was looking with wonder, smiling at the sight. The only person who didn't seem completely enchanted by the sight was Matthias, and Lukas caught the bounty hunter smiling gently at him as he finally shook himself to his senses and slid down the ridge.

Jostenberg was built in a rock bowl that sat right on the coast. Around the city, in the direction of the inland, were sharp, steep cliffs. The city itself was built on a series of massive, relatively flat steps. It was tiered, though each tier wasn't significantly higher than the one before it. Some buildings had been built into the rock cliffs, though there was a stretch of hilly, unused land right behind the back-most buildings. True to Malin's word, a massive seawall cut the city off from the ocean. He could see airtight doorways built along the structure, which led out to the wooden piers that stuck out into the Rjuhelle Ocean.

The buildings must have all once been painted in vibrant colours, but in the eleven years since the Expansion, the sea air and a lack of maintenance had faded the colours significantly. He could see metal spires on the rooves, designed to ward away the massive coastal birds that liked to roost there, all of which were severely rusted. The windows of all the houses were either boarded up or tightly closed. He couldn't see any movement from this distance, and the city looked almost morbidly quiet.

The wind on top of the cliffs that bordered Jostenberg on the land side was immense, and Lukas went so far as to reach over and grab Matthias' arm to ensure that he wouldn't get blown right off. Malin made a face as she approached the edge, indicating a rope that had been drilled into the rock.

"You're shitting me." Hans muttered, staring at Malin. "We have to climb down?" Malin smiled shrewdly.

"Indeed, we do. Welcome to the real hard-yards, everyone." She nodded her head at Ros. "Ros, you're my second, you go first." Ros didn't look overly pleased about that, but nodded and sighed, approaching the rope and squatting, gripping it tightly in her hands before swinging off the edge. Lukas felt his heart jump into his throat for a moment before he saw her shuffling her way down, feet pressed against the rock. Malin watched her move down, nodding before turning back. "Take care on the rock, it's slippery as hell."

Hans decided to bite the bullet and go next, with Nina moving to shuffle on after him. Lukas sighed, exchanging a look with Matthias before approaching the rope himself. He could tell just from the texture that he was going to end up with rope burn going down the cliff, but he sighed and swung himself over, cursing when his feet slipped and slid against the rock face. Malin hadn't been lying about how slippery the damn thing was.

Taking care to plant his feet solidly before shuffling down the rope, Lukas carefully navigated his way down until he was able to stretch his feet down and touch the rock ledge that Ros, Nina and Hans were already waiting on. He stepped away from the rope with relief.

Turning around, he surveyed the area with interest. They were on a ledge maybe thirty metres above the ground itself, and the whole area was buzzing with rebels. He could see countless white jackets like the one he was wearing, in addition to the uniforms of foot-soldiers, analysts, medics and countless others. He could see a few faces that he recalled from Blå Ren, to his surprise. There must have been thousands of people wandering along the huge ledge, and he could see a few people scattered along the ground, far below.

He continued to observe the area as the rest of his squad dropped down, Malin coming last. Now that he looked, he could see more people piling into the space from narrow rock passes and precarious paths down from up above. Even glancing up at the rope they had taken to get down, he could see another group buzzing around at the top. He shook his head in disbelief. He didn't think he had ever seen so many rebels in one spot, save the resistance headquarters on Nyma, of course.

Matthias perfectly summed up Lukas' thoughts by letting out an impressed whistle. "Damn, this really is an impressive force they've managed to scrounge up." Lukas nodded wordlessly in agreement.

Malin clapped her hands together, looking at the group of them expectantly. "Alright team, we've gotta go register. They're trying to keep track of how many soldiers we have so they can finalise the plan of attack." Jerking her head in what Lukas presumed was the direction of where they had to register, she set off, and they all followed her through the thick throngs of people.

Finally, after a good ten minutes of gently shoving their way through the crowds, Malin sighed in relief and pointed at a cramped, overcrowded tent where a rather overwhelmed-looking young man was sitting in a chair with a large stack of papers balanced precariously on his lap. Lukas raised an eyebrow. Malin saw his look and winced. "Yeah, it's not exactly the finest establishment out there, but they make it work." She marched up the man. "Guerrilla Squad E." she said simply. "There's nine of us."

The young man nodded, marking down a note on one of his many papers. "Captain Malin Thomassen? The Kommandor's looking for you." Malin blinked, nodding.

"Ah, I see. Thank you."

Lukas raised an inquisitive eyebrow as she approached them again. She didn't acknowledge the look. "Well, it looks like I need to go find my boss." Malin joked. "You guys might as well come with. Faena, Birgitte, I know she'll be keen to see you two again." The twins nodded, both smiling. From what else Lukas had been able to glean from them about Galina Hansen, the Kommandor had acted almost like a parental figure to them. She had been incredibly protective of the Lindholms; that was why they had been forbidden from fighting for so long, but they cared about her a lot.

Lukas could only hope that Galina Hansen was more preoccupied by whatever she had to tell Malin, and seeing the twins again, to pay too much attention to him. He had no clue how good her memory was, but given that he had met her several times when he was a child, and that she had been the one to read his power levels when he was four, there was always a chance that she would identify something familiar about him. After all, Kari had managed to do the same. Granted, he had been quite close with her, but people's memories could be remarkable like that.

They wove through the crowds for what felt like half an hour before they heard a woman shout, "Malin! There you are!" Lukas recognised the voice. It sounded significantly older and wearier than the version he had heard in his childhood, but it was definitely the same voice he recalled hearing asking his parents polite questions about his development with the _lahjöf_ and other factors. Bracing himself, he turned and looked at Galina Hansen.

Even if her voice alone hadn't signalled Lukas to the fact that she was in fact, the Kommandor of the Fynknian rebel forces, he felt like her appearance would have given him ample evidence to figure that fact out.

She was tall, maybe two or three inches taller than Malin. Lukas pinned her height at about 5'9'', putting her a good inch taller than him. Judging by her appearance and what he remembered about her, she was in her late thirties to early forties. Her hair was a shade of dark steel, and it had been pulled back into a practical bun. Sections at the front had been braided to keep any loose strands from falling into her face. Her eyes were a shade of dark indigo. By far the most striking feature of her face, though, was the vicious scar that ran from the inside edge of her right eyebrow, down along her nose, flared out across her left cheek and stopped mid-way down her neck. A decent chunk of flesh was missing in her cheek and jaw.

She was wearing a long coat in dark grey, with similar clothes to guerrilla squad members underneath. She had a set of dog-tags hanging around her neck, and only a small pin on her lapel that indicated her ranking. Her hands were wrapped in a pair of black gloves, and despite how intimidating she was, and the vicious scar on her face, her smile was welcoming as Malin perked up and darted over to her.

"Kommandor Hansen." Malin said simply, bowing her head in respect. The Kommandor shook her head.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Malin, the formality isn't necessary." Galina said simply. She turned her cool gaze on the rest of them. "Ahh, your squad." The stony woman smiled as Faena and Birgitte wriggled through the group to greet her. "Good to see that the two of you are unharmed." Galina said sincerely. She turned back to Malin. "I heard you got more squad members recently." Malin nodded, indicating Lukas, Matthias and Sigurd.

"You heard right. These three came fresh out from Blå Ren. They've been doing very well so far." Galina skimmed her eyes over them, and Lukas took care not to make eye contact for long, lest she see the small fault in his left eye that he was known for. Nodding to herself, Galina turned back to Malin, placing her hand on their Captain's arm.

"As much as I would like to continue this conversation, I'm afraid that duty calls. We're starting the assault right after dusk, so rest up and get your squad ready." Malin nodded, and Lukas saw Galina gently squeeze Malin's arm before releasing her, nodding to the rest of them and turning on her heel, wandering off. When Lukas looked back at Malin, he raised an eyebrow when he saw a pink flush on her cheeks. Recalling their conversation about Malin's love life a few days ago, he couldn't stop the small grin that crossed his face.

Nina was less subtle, squealing when she saw Malin's blush. Ros nodded sagely, murmuring, "I ship it". Faena rolled her eyes but grinned good-naturedly at Malin, whose face had only gotten redder.

"Alright, that's enough of that." Malin said, trying and failing to appear imposing. "Come on, we should all get some rest. We attack after dusk." They followed her as she moved to stake out a place for them to rest, grinning knowingly at one another all the while.

* * *

Matthias shuffled around a little, wishing he could be a little more comfortable. They had been advised to rest before they started their assault on the city that night, but it wasn't proving to be easy. There was no space for tents, so they had all slunk into a darkened little cave hiding deep in the rock cliffs, found especially comfortable patches of ground and laid down to sleep.

They had all stowed their packs in a pile in the corner, so that they wouldn't be carrying unnecessary weight. Only Matthias' rifle, axe and water canteen were still with him. He swallowed, pressing his eyes closed and trying to clear his mind of thoughts. His heart was pounding pre-emptively at the thought of what would be greeting them when they went to Jostenberg that night.

Malin had tried to gently break to them what sorts of things they could expect. The Union had the tactical advantage in the form of control over most buildings in the city, and according to their sources, most remaining civilians had been sequestered up in their attics so that Union forces had access to the lower and street levels. They also were more familiar with the city, and armed to the teeth to boot. All of the time the rebels had spent hesitating to get as many soldiers assembled as possible had also opened up an opportunity for the Union to gather their forces.

In addition to the tactical advantage, the Union was also better supplied than they were. They had guns, grenades, heavy-duty weaponry like tanks and other equipment. They also had more food, water and medical supplies, along with trained personnel among their ranks. The rebels had those things too, but not on the same scale. They were fighting such an upward battle that they might as well be pointing their guns vertically. Matthias was dreading it.

Not only would he somehow have to keep his own ass alive, but he also needed to protect Lukas. Though there were certainly his friends' fates in question, he also legitimately wanted to protect the prince from harm, and this sadly seemed like an environment where that would be hard to do.

At the very least, they weren't approaching the city right from the cliffs. There was a small force heading that way to fool the Union, but the rest of them were taking a quicker, smarter route. Thanks to the many informants living within Jostenberg, they knew that the city had a vast, inter-connected sewer system, which had outlet points near the cliff face. The locals had gone to the extent of not using anything that went to the sewers in the last few days in the hopes that the water levels would be lower.

It would be difficult to navigate, but people heading the groups would be equipped with compasses, guns and strong enough people to hoist open the manhole covers when they were within the city itself. The locals had managed to scrounge up whatever weapons they had and hand them to their most able-bodied civilians. They were planning to join in the attack.

It warmed Matthias' chest for some reason, to see how devoted these people were to taking back their own freedom. He liked to think he would do the same for his own hometown if it were ever necessary. It was sad to think that it was even required, though. He shook his head. He didn't need to be die-hard soldier of the resistance to recognise that the Union was fucked up in how it handled foreign policy.

He sat up, sighing slightly. It was plenty dark enough for him to sleep – but then, Matthias could have slept in bright sunlight if he only found a patch of dirt comfortable enough – but his restless mind was what was keeping him up. Glancing over at the rest of his squad, he saw that they were all asleep. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes.

"You look worried." The words were only a murmur. Looking up, Matthias blinked when he saw Lukas, who was lying next to him, blinking sleepily at him. Matthias smiled wryly.

"A little, yeah," he said, "I'm just nervous about what's going to happen tonight." Lukas hummed, nodding slightly.

"I can understand that." He murmured. "But still, you should try and sleep."

"I know." Matthias sighed, lying back down and staring at the rocky ceiling in frustration. "I've been trying." Lukas inclined his head a little.

"You want me to put you under?" he murmured, words barely above a whisper. Matthias looked over at him in surprise.

"You can do that?" he asked. Lukas nodded.

"Well yeah. The _Sjeltanker_ is manipulation of the whole mind, and sleep is definitely part of that." He said. Matthias looked at him curiously for a moment before nodding.

"Well…okay then." Lukas propped himself up on one arm.

"You trust someone to go poking around in your head?" he said, tone light. Matthias smiled, closing his eyes.

"Only if it's you." He mumbled. He felt Lukas' warm fingers brush against his cheek, and sleep overtook him immediately.

* * *

Matthias woke to the sensation of warm fingers withdrawing from the side of his face. Blinking in surprise, he looked up and saw Lukas, who smiled slightly at him.

"Sleep well?" the prince asked. Matthias nodded as he sat up. It was probably the deepest sleep he could ever remember having. He hadn't dreamt, or really experienced anything other than warm, comforting darkness. He felt incredibly well-rested, and he ran a hand through his hair, nodding.

"Yes, actually." He looked over at Lukas. "Can you do that to me every night?" Lukas smiled.

"You know, as much as I would love to hear about what you two do to each other every night, we do have a fight to be getting to." Ros said cheekily as she strolled over to them, hands tucked into her pockets. Matthias flushed at the implication, while Lukas rolled his eyes and got to his feet.

"Not everything has to be turned into an innuendo, Ros." He lectured. Ros stuck her tongue out at him. Lukas sighed in exasperation before turning back to Matthias and offering his hand, jerking his head towards the cave's entrance. "Shall we go fight the Union?" Matthias took a deep breath, trying to calm the pounding rhythm that his heart had started up again, and nodded.

He took Lukas' hand and jumped to his feet, taking care to scoop his axe up off the ground next to him. Though Lukas' expression was calm, he could see the prince drumming his fingers on his legs nervously. He nudged him gently, cracking a grin.

"Don't worry," he said, winking at him, "I'll keep you safe." Lukas rolled his eyes again, but still smiled slightly as they darted out of the cave.

"I think you should focus on yourself first and foremost." He murmured gently. "After all, if you die, then who am I gonna make carry our tent?" Matthias grinned, elbowing the Fynknian playfully as they followed Ros and Sigurd down a narrow pathway cut into the rock. It reminded him a lot of the Sulig Mountains that he and his friends had to navigate back on Nyma. He smiled slightly at the memory as they walked down, shoes slipping slightly on the wet rock.

It took them maybe thirty minutes to get to the bottom, where a group of maybe twenty other rebels had gathered. Looking around, Matthias realised that they were the only guerrilla squad members present here. The normal infantry looked over at them, and he distinctly saw someone's shoulders relax. Guerrilla squad members were among the very best soldiers that Fynkn had to offer, so he supposed it could only be comforting to get sent into an active warzone with a group of them.

Ros edged her way to the front of the group, holding a small device that Matthias guessed was for navigation. She approached the middle of where the other rebels were gathered, and as she pushed past Matthias, he spotted a thick metal grate set into the rough stone. It was one of the openings that led to the sewers, he realised. As Ros approached, two of the tall and burly infantry soldiers slid their hands under the edge of the huge grate and hoisted it up. Ros stepped towards the now-dark hole that led straight down, nodding to herself.

Ros turned back as she double-checked all of her weapons were in place. "Any volunteers who want come down first with me?" she asked dryly. To Matthias' surprise, Lukas shrugged and stepped forwards.

"Why not." He sighed, smiling slightly at her as she grinned. Rolling his eyes at the Fynknian's insistence on being reckless, he also wandered over. Ros smiled even more, and crouched by the hole, swinging her legs over the edge before looking up.

"The drop is about five metres down." She said to the whole group assembled there. "Try to use the walls to scramble down." And with that, she stuck the navigation device into her mouth (inventive) and leaned forwards, pressing her gloved hands against the walls and splaying her legs out as she started to do an awkward shuffle down. After a few moments, he saw her release her hold on the wall and drop, landing somewhat gracefully on her feet, peering up at them. Only her bright eyes were visible through the darkness. Lukas moved to follow her, and Matthias waited until he, too, was at the bottom before trying himself.

It wasn't easy, and it definitely wasn't fun, either, but he finally got to a low-enough level where he could pull his legs away from the wall and drop. He managed to land on his feet, and though a brief, shooting pain went through his legs, he was unharmed. He staggered slightly but righted himself, and glanced around.

The sewers were…dry? He raised an eyebrow. He, Ros and Lukas were currently standing in what looked more like an empty metro tunnel than a sewer, with narrow stone banks on either side that were obviously designed for workers to walk along. The channel where they were standing, where one would have expected water and waste galore, didn't seem to have much sewage beyond a low layer of a thick, marshy substance. Matthias moved over to the stone banks on the side and clambered up, trying to see into the thick darkness that cloaked the tunnel ahead.

"How is it so dry?" Lukas asked, voicing Matthias' churning questions. "I know the locals were trying to minimise their water usage, but…"

Ros hummed, also looking confused for a moment as she shone her torch around. Matthias saw her expression clear as she approached one murky puddle of gunk and fish around. He bit back a snort as he noticed Lukas' disgusted expression. Ros pulled a strange, jelly-like chunk out of the muck and nodded.

"Ahh, that makes sense." When she turned around, she was grinning unashamedly. "These locals are helpful as all hell. It's high-concentrate SG." When they both looked at her in confusion, she smiled kindly. "You know those packets you get with clothes? The ones they explicitly say not to eat?" they both nodded. "Yeah, that's SG. Silica gel. It's a desiccant. Sucks up water like you wouldn't believe, especially when it's in a concentrate form like this." She dumped the substance back onto the ground, grinning. "These people are brilliant."

Matthias nodded as he stepped back down into the low channel and watched more people drop down into the sewers with them. When about half of them were assembled, Ros nodded at Lukas and Matthias and fiddled with her device, nodding in one direction.

"Shall we go?" she said. Matthias glanced over at Lukas, whose face was set in a look of determination as he nodded. He copied the gesture, and they both followed her into the dark.

Matthias had been expecting a relatively short trip through the sewers, but they were still walking over an hour later. Ros paused carefully at every intersection of pipes and tunnels, waiting for her navigation device to ascertain the proper path through. He cracked his neck absently, glancing over at Lukas. He could barely see the prince's face in the darkness, other than the small amount of light that the wide beam of Ros' flashlight was casting on his cheeks.

Glancing at his watch, Matthias felt a shock go through him when he realised that it was already 11pm. Fynkn, due to it's axial tilt, had very long days in summer and very short ones in winter, but he hadn't realised that dusk had come quite so late. He heard Lukas huff out a short laugh.

"Are you really not used to the day lengths yet?" he teased. "Honestly, Matthias, you've been here for two months." Matthias shrugged.

"Well I'm normally not checking my watch when we're off walking, okay?" he grumbled. "It's so different from Rywan is all. It's off-putting." Lukas nodded.

"I can understand that." He said simply. "Going somewhere so different to what you're used to is always a little unsettling. You should have seen me when I first got to Nyma. I nearly ended up in the infirmary with heatstroke on my second day." Matthias laughed at that.

"Okay, in all fairness to you, Nyma wasn't very comfy for me either." He nudged Lukas, winking, even though he was sure the gesture wasn't visible in the dark. "Us northerners just aren't built for heat." Lukas smiled at that, and Matthias felt his stomach do an odd flip-flopping motion as he turned back to the front. Ros had slowed her steps up ahead of them, and she was looking over her shoulder curiously at them both.

"I keep forgetting that you were both from the resistance originally." She said casually. "I've always been curious about what it's really like there." Lukas frowned.

"I thought you were sent there for rehabilitation after you hurt your leg?" he inquired. She nodded.

"Yes, but I spent the vast majority of that in the hospital. I didn't get to see much outside that." They both nodded in understanding. She raised a curious eyebrow as she glanced over her shoulder at them next. "So, what is it like?"

Matthias looked over at Lukas automatically, as the prince shrugged. "It's a little odd, honestly. It feels less like an organised unit than the rebellion here does, but it's oddly more cohesive? It doesn't take long for people to get to know about you, unlike here. The commanding officers are interesting, too. I mean, it's obvious why some of them have gained the positions they have." Ros nodded.

"What's the senior leadership there like? I've heard a few stories, but nothing too much in detail." She asked. Lukas bit his lip, thinking for a moment. Matthias decided to add his own two cents to the conversation.

"Well, I only ever really interacted with a few of them." He said, truthfully. "I mostly ended up with Vice-General Papadopoulos." Ros perked up.

"Oh! I've heard of her! She's Daernic, isn't she?" Matthias nodded.

"Yup. She's strict, that's for sure, and she has high expectations." He felt some of his reservations break down as he thought back to when the thorny woman had been tasked with preparing him to come here. "…She's kind, though. Loyal, too. Loyal as all hell. As authoritative as she is, you can tell she does care a lot. Very intelligent, to boot." He shrugged. "She definitely has a lot of leadership skills, I think." Ros nodded, looking enraptured by his testimony. Lukas shot Matthias one of those strange, almost gentle looks, before nodding himself.

"That's fairly accurate, honestly. I didn't encounter Vice-General Papadopoulos as much, but that's a spot-on description." Matthias grinned at him, bowing sarcastically in thanks for the compliment. Lukas rolled his eyes, but also smiled, which made Matthias grin even more.

"What about the other senior leadership?" Ros asked curiously. Matthias could see a hidden question behind her eyes, and raised an eyebrow.

"You know, if you wanted to ask what the big boss is like, you can just ask." He said dryly. Ros smiled bashfully.

"Alright then, do either of you know what the General is like? I've heard a tonne of folk stories, but I'd like to know what's true and what isn't. I mean, what's he like, in a word?"

Matthias and Lukas exchanged a look. Describe Yao Wang in one word? That was challenging. Matthias knew what he would say, but he doubted Lukas would agree.

Which was why he was surprised when they both shrugged, and, in unison, murmured, "Terrifying". Matthias shot Lukas a surprised look as Ros made an intrigued sound in the back of her throat.

"Damn, really? I'd heard he was a hard-ass, but…" she trailed off, turning her eyes on them curiously. Matthias shrugged, not knowing how to explain it, but Lukas spoke after a moment of silence.

"It's…I mean, he's not a bad person or anything, no, but he just has this capacity to do things that other people find unacceptable…" Lukas trailed off again, hesitating. "He's absolutely ruthless when he wants to be, which, in all fairness, is why he was elected in the first place, but seeing his capacity for cruelty can be jarring at times." Matthias stared at Lukas as the Fynknian explained. He himself had only met Yao Wang briefly, but to hear a testimony from someone who by all accounts seemed _close_ to the prickly General talk about him in such a way, felt oddly enlightening.

Lukas sighed again. "He…he's a good person, and he can be a very kind person, but I would never want to be on his bad side. He's been through a lot, so he doesn't have quite the perspective on pain and loyalty that everyone else does." At Matthias' curious look, Lukas frowned. "He _was_ tortured. I mean, that changes a person." Matthias blinked, feeling coldness run down his spine. Lukas looked surprised at his shocked look. "You didn't know that?" Matthias shook his head numbly. The cold, unsympathetic looks that Yao had shot him felt a lot more ominous now, in hindsight.

Ros was frowning. "Yikes, poor guy." Lukas nodded.

"Yeah. He's had a rough life. Even not all of the rebels can manage to respect him, even now." Ros looked completely bewildered.

"Why not? I'm not going to pretend that I love every commanding officer here, or agree with everything they say, but I respect them all." She said, sounding stumped. "Why isn't it the same there?" Lukas rolled his eyes.

"Because of the ridiculous, idiotic ideology that is racism." He spat, sounding angry at the mere thought. Ros looked even more confused than before.

"…Why in the system would they be racist towards him?" now it was Lukas' turn to look confused. He raised an eyebrow, exchanging a puzzled look with Matthias.

"Because he's Yanish?" at the way Ros' eyes widened and footsteps faltered for a moment, that was news to her. "You didn't know that?" she shook her head.

"No, I most certainly did not." She said. "That's weird to think about…" she trailed off. Lukas shot her a look, pre-emptively defensive.

"Why?" he asked, tone a little harsh. Ros looked up, holding her hands in a 'surrender' position when she spotted the coldness that had come over Lukas' face.

"Not in a bad way!" she exclaimed. "Believe me, it's superb that people within the Union are seeing how wrong it is. It's just a little surprising. They're fed a lot of propaganda over there, so breaking from the status quo would have been hard." Lukas' cold expression melted away, and he nodded.

"From what I know, it wasn't. But he's a good leader. One of their best, if the unbiased sources are to be believed." Ros nodded.

"Well I do know that he was the first leader to try and connect with our rebel forces." She said. "It was his idea to give us medicine and aid and supplementary soldiers." Ros nodded at Matthias as she said this. "Believe me, I am a fan of this guy." She looked over at Lukas. "You're quite defensive of him." Lukas shrugged, though Matthias thought he detected a hint of an embarrassed flush on Lukas' cheeks.

He grinned. Octavia had given him a few nuggets of information about the resistance and Yao when she'd been tutoring him, and he did remember one in particular she had found amusing.

"From what I've heard, he's kind of _in loco parentis_ for a lot of people." He said, smiling when he saw Lukas' cheeks flush even more and duck his head. Ros grinned.

"Aww, that's cute." She gushed, reaching over to mess up Lukas' hair. "There's nothing wrong with having parental figures." She waggled her eyebrows in amusement. "I hope your real parents aren't offended by that." Lukas sighed, the sound tired and worn. Matthias winced.

"They're dead, so I'd wager they don't give a fuck." He said simply. Ros' amused look dropped from her face, replaced by a regretful one.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry." He waved her apology off.

"It doesn't bother me." He said, and Matthias felt himself relax a little when he saw some measure of sincerity in Lukas' eyes at those words. The absence of his horrifying nightmares seemed to be helping a lot in getting the prince to come to terms with his past, for which Matthias was grateful. It was good to see the prince sleeping through the night, and have some colour in his face for once.

Ros' navigation device beeped, and she abruptly came to a stop. She cast her eyes and flashlight beam upwards, where a large, circular manhole cover was now visible. Ros glanced at them both, then turned her flashlight around and flashed it twice towards the group following them. "Looks like we're here."

The ceiling had become significantly lower as they'd walked, to the point that Matthias' hair had been brushing against it. Lukas and Ros, being much shorter, had been unaffected, luckily for them.

They waited as the rest of the group assembled behind them. Ros turned her flashlight back to the manhole cover.

"Alright," she said, her voice loud enough to be heard by everyone but toned down enough that everyone got the tip to stay quiet, "we're heading up onto the streets now. I would recommend extreme caution from this point onwards. Keep your hands on your weapons and your eyes on your surroundings. Move out of open space quickly. The later they notice we're coming, the better. Watch out for each other, and give 'em hell." Without waiting for any questions or queries, Ros drew her rifle from her back, affixing the bayonet to the top. She looked around and nodded at Matthias. Stepping towards the manhole cover, he braced his hands underneath it and pushed upwards. He had been informed earlier that he would have to do the lifting since he was tall and strong enough to do so.

He had initially protested this. As he had explained, manhole covers on Rywan and Reycass could weigh as much as 120 kilograms. Matthias was strong, yes, but not that strong. Ros had simply winked at him.

"Yes, and most Fynknian manhole covers would also weigh the same, but we're in Jostenberg. This city is prone to flooding in bad storms, which means they need to be able to drain the water out to somewhere. That's why the sewers are so large, and it's also why manhole covers in Jostenberg and other flood-prone cities on Fynkn only weigh about 50 kilograms instead. You can deadlift 50 kilograms, right?"

The question had taken him off-guard, and he had stupidly blurted out, "Well, I can deadlift Lukas." That had warranted a bemused look from the prince, in addition to Ros' confusion before she had sighed and whirled around to ask Lukas how much he weighed.

"58 kilograms." Lukas had responded, with a hesitant quirk of the eyebrow that indicated that was a close estimate rather than an exact figure. Ros had seemed satisfied, though.

The manhole certainly felt heavier than 58 kilograms though. Perhaps it was because Lukas' weight was more spread out. He shoved at it, straining his arms. It slid free of its frame, and he carefully levered it up until he could slide it along the street and leave the hole exposed. He rubbed at his arms as Ros nodded. He offered her a step-up, which she accepted as she gripped the edges of the manhole and hauled herself up, onto the street.

Lukas was next, choosing to jump and curl his fingers around the edges and then pull himself up effortlessly. It was only due to the fact that Matthias had seen how defined Lukas' muscles were that he was no longer questioning how that was possible. Taking a deep breath, he followed them.

The air on the streets was much colder than it had been down in the sewers, and Matthias blinked as the frigid air hit his face and immediately made his eyes water. He quickly hauled himself clear of the hole, darting over to the side of the street to stand under an awning when he saw Lukas and Ros waiting there. The city was morbidly silent, and Matthias shuddered slightly as he felt his heartrate pick up again.

The others were quickly and quietly slipping out of the manhole, running to hide in the shadows of buildings before any stray Union eyes could spot them and take aim. Matthias swallowed, feeling his anxiety pick up. As abruptly as they had come, he felt the emotions ebbing away, and realised the cause when he felt warm, calloused fingers wrapped around his wrist. He made eye contact with Lukas, who leaned closer.

"We're going to be alright." The prince murmured. "Let's just stick together, yeah?" Matthias mumbled his agreement, but Lukas didn't retract his hand, and Matthias focused on the warmth and comfort for a few moments.

The last person up slid the manhole cover back into place before running to cover. Ros exhaled lightly, before turning to Matthias, Lukas and everyone else pressed against their side of the street, and indicated which way they were going.

Their main mission here, as a stealth squad, was to infiltrate houses appropriated by the Union as watchtowers and make it as easy as possible for the forces set to come in the morning to get into the city. Matthias had no idea how well they would complete their task, but they only had until sunrise to do it.

He followed Lukas and Ros down a side street. Their points of entry had been strategically placed in the vicinity of watchtowers. They'd been careful to make sure they weren't so close as to attract fully-armed attention, but not so far away that they got lost in the city's maze of faded buildings on the way there. Ros had the area mapped out both on paper and in her head, so she was yet again acting as their primary navigator.

They ducked past boarded-up windows and abandoned gardens left to grow out with weeds. They kept pressed against the walls of dilapidated buildings and slid through shadows rather than braving the slightly better lit streets.

Ros paused before a tall building that faced the high rockface they had scrambled down just earlier that day. The windows on this building weren't boarded up, and if he squinted, Matthias could see movement behind the glass. Ros bit her lip, surveying the building. She gestured back to them, and Matthias watched her hands carefully. They had been taught hand signals while at Blå Ren. He nodded to himself as she lowered her hands. They were going to move in from the right.

Matthias held his breath as they all darted out from their positions of cover and bolted towards the building. The Union soldiers had chosen not to occupy the lower levels of the buildings, instead choosing to board up all of the doors and windows and use fire escapes connecting the building to others to enter and exit the structure. Matthias pressed his back against the brick wall. Ros looked at the door she was standing right next to, grimacing. She moved back over towards him and Lukas as she murmured to them.

"It's possible that it's been trapped." She murmured. "Bombed or something. Even if it isn't, by breaking in we'll give them ample warning. It's possible they could just barricade themselves inside or something." Biting her lip, she shot a look upwards at the rest of the building.

"If it was bomb-rigged, it wouldn't be too strong." Lukas murmured. "Otherwise they would knock out the foundation of the building. I doubt that their anti-entry measures include bringing the whole building down." Ros nodded.

"That's a good point. The bomb would still likely be strong enough to either maim or kill whoever's trying to get in, though." Matthias looked at the building, an idea stewing at the back of his mind.

"Ros…" he murmured quietly. "They probably wouldn't also trap the second floor, right? It's not too high a climb." When he turned his gaze back to Ros, her eyes were wide, and she was nodding.

"You're brilliant, Matthias." She breathed. "Does anyone here have any climbing expertise?" Lukas made a face, sighing before nodding.

"I did a good amount of climbing on the last mission I took for the resistance." He said. "I can do it." Nodding, Ros murmured the plan to another soldier, who moved to spread the word to the rest of the group. Lukas took the rope that Ros handed him, and Matthias watched him anxiously wring it in his hands. He was the one who would have to climb up and tie the rope to something stable, after all.

"Okay, command told me that at exactly 12:30 we can expect a distraction, so I think we should time it to have Lukas kicking the window in at that time exactly." Ros checked her watch. "Okay, that's in about ten minutes. Lukas, get climbing."

Lukas hung the loops of rope around his neck and shuffled towards the wall, searching for hand and footholds. He slowly began to climb the sheer wall, at times shuffling along sideways to find better niches to cling onto. Matthias couldn't help but anxiously shuffle sideways in time with him. Ros anxiously watched the time tick onwards.

With two minutes left until the rebels' promised 'distraction', Lukas scrambled up onto the narrow ledge of the window he had chosen to break into, clinging into the ledge over his head precariously. Matthias felt like his heart was in his mouth as he watched the prince rest there, waiting poised to send his foot through the glass.

Matthias' gaze slid to his own watch. The time ticked over to 12:30am.

The surge of unbelievable, intense sound that erupted from the far eastern side of the city sent Matthias to his knees, hands clasped over his ears. He could see the others around him doing the same. Blinking in bewilderment, he staggered back to his feet, his entire head ringing like a drummer had taken up residence, as he whirled around to gawk in the direction of the sound. A huge plume of smoke was rising above the buildings on the far edge of the city. Matthias blinked in shock.

"I guess that was their distraction." Ros said weakly. Remembering Lukas, Matthias whirled around, only to see the window smashed and Lukas gone, no doubt fixing the rope inside. He felt his stomach churn nervously until Lukas' pale face appeared at the window, gesturing hurriedly.

Ros leapt into action, grabbing the end of the rope and, after giving it an experimental tug, began to climb up. Matthias followed her. The climb wasn't too hard, and he found himself at the windowsill in no time, clambering carefully over shattered glass to lightly step inside. He glanced out the window, able to see the source of the noise much better now. The rebels had detonated something, and he could see fire burning away. He stepped away from the window to let the others climb up.

"What the hell did they even blow up?" Lukas murmured to him. Matthias shrugged hopelessly, before slinging his rifle off his back at Ros' signal. She slid towards the staircase silently, them following as quietly as possible. They approached a door, and, bracing himself, Matthias shoved it open, Ros hurling herself inside as he did so.

The relative silence of the night vanished, the air cracking open with the sounds of gunshots as they all flooded into the room, shooting. He heard screams as their own soldiers were hit, and Matthias dived to the ground, making sure to grab Lukas' arm and drag him down too. He shuffled behind a desk for cover, and he felt Lukas follow him. He peered over the desk, gun pointed as he sought out enemies in the haze. His eyes locked onto a black-haired soldier dressed in olive, and he let his finger squeeze the trigger, watching as the man fell.

He could see some rebels moving to go up to the next level already, and after checking that bullets weren't flying aimlessly through the air anymore, he stumbled to his feet and followed them.

The room was already strewn with bodies when he arrived, and Matthias swallowed heavily as he took aim at the remaining soldiers. The room stank of blood and gunpowder. He kept moving. He could see some rebel bodies mixed among the Unionists, and his stomach turned over. Looking around, he felt ready to be sick. He didn't know why he was reacting like this. He had seen dead people before. He himself had killed countless people before. Death and violence weren't new to him.

Shaking his head, he moved off in search of Lukas, keeping a close eye on anything that moved.

* * *

 _4:44am  
(28th Augynt)_

Lukas rubbed at his eyes, head hanging as he sucked in a breath not tainted by the smells of death. He felt like he was in the midst of running a marathon, even seated, as he was right now. They had taken the first outpost building in about an hour, once they had waded their way through the endless lines of soldiers holed up in the top levels of the building. After that, about half of them had followed their orders to move on to another target. He buried his face in his hands as he heard more gunshots ring out from above. He had come along to help liberate the second building, and all but the top floor were now theirs.

As much power as the Union might hold in comparison to the rebels, there was something sickening about killing in the way they were doing. Guerrilla warfare was necessary, and considering the rebel numbers, their only real options right now, but Lukas still felt deeply uncomfortable. He preferred to be upfront, and there was something about this sneaking and ambushing that was making his stomach turn. Matthias hadn't been looking too good earlier, now that he thought of it. They were both getting their first proper taste of real warfare, and Lukas couldn't say he liked it too much.

He forced himself to his feet. He had avoided injury so far, save a bad scrape on his arm that was the result of a bullet coming just a little too close for comfort. He was a little battered and bruised from throwing himself to the ground and behind furniture to avoid getting a hole drilled through his skull, but otherwise fairly okay. Nina was leaning against the wall, expression pressed into a frown. The gunshots above ceased, and when the silence lasted for more than three minutes, Lukas relaxed, knowing that it was probably over now. He glanced over at Nina, who had her hands pressed to her face now. He approached her.

"You doing okay?" he asked gently. She looked up, dropping her hands and nodding.

"Yeah, just…" she sighed. "It's harrowing, isn't it?" he nodded in agreement.

"That's one way to put it." he murmured, glancing over to the door when he heard voices approaching.

Ros staggered down the stairs, sighing. She looked exhausted, but then she had been leading the charges into almost every room. He looked at her, hesitating as he wondered what their next move was meant to be.

"Management's told us to hole up for a while. The main attack starts at 6." She muttered, looking ready to collapse. Lukas nodded, sighing, as they cautiously slipped out into the street. The Union would have unleashed their death squads on the city by now, so they needed to be careful while walking to any sort of secondary location.

The streets were dark and still, but the air held the air of anticipation. There was a tense energy underlying the silence. The city itself felt like it had it's breath bated, just waiting for the onslaught that was set for little over an hour from now.

Ros ducked inside a building and emerged a moment later, nodding that the coast was clear. They all traipsed inside. Lukas felt a gentle touch at his elbow, and felt relief flood his system when he saw it was Matthias. He wrapped a hand around the bounty hunter's wrist as they both wandered through the house, looking for a tactical point. Some of their fellow soldiers were choosing to catch an hour of sleep before everything went to shit, but Lukas felt too wired to sleep.

Evidently Matthias felt the same, because when Lukas ended up posting himself on a wide window ledge to survey the area, the blond joined him. They sat in silence, listening to the sounds of distant gunfire as the sky gradually grew lighter and lighter.

"Well, we're alive so far." Matthias murmured softly after maybe a half hour of silence. Lukas nodded absently.

"We are indeed." He murmured. He heard the other man sigh.

"I miss my friends." He murmured. Lukas felt his heart twist as he looked over at Matthias again. He shuffled closer to him, leaning over to rest his head on the bounty hunter's shoulder.

"Me too." He admitted. "We're both gonna go back and visit them on Nyma, though. We just gotta get through this first." Matthias nodded, then shifted slightly, moving to wrap his arm around Lukas' shoulders. Lukas accepted the sideways hug, pressing his face into the folds of Matthias' coat. They both sighed deeply, glad for the presence of the other as they waited for the rest of the rebel forces to mobilise.

* * *

 _6:03am_

Matthias jerked awake as a loud round of gunfire met his ears. He blinked wearily. He had been intending to fall asleep, but the atmosphere had been so oddly calm that he must have drifted off. Glancing to his side, he could see Lukas still under his arm. The Fynknian was awake and alert, peering out to where the gunfire was coming from, but he hadn't made any moves to throw Matthias' arm off. Still blinking sleepily, he let his arm drop from Lukas' shoulders as he too turned his attention towards the horizon.

The prince glanced at him before shuffling backwards and jumping off the window ledge. "We should get going. The city's going to go to hell real soon." Matthias nodded.

"Yeah, true. Did you sleep at all?" he asked. Lukas paused in the doorway, looking back at him.

"No, but I made sure your dreams were all pleasant, don't worry." He said. Matthias smiled wearily at him as the prince disappeared down the stairs. He glanced up at the sky – already getting lighter by the second – before following Lukas. They darted down the stairs, where Ros had her map spread on a table. She looked over as they entered.

"Oh, there you two are." She indicated the map with a tilt of her head. "The main onslaught's started, if you hadn't guessed already. A second wave will be coming through at 8, a third at 1, and the last one, which has our other elite soldiers, sometime this evening. We've got a long day ahead." Matthias nodded, sighing as he rubbed his temples. Ros straightened up, nodding to herself. "Of our original group of 32, we've got 24 left. Not great, not terrible." She sighed. "Come on, we should offer some frontline support. The Union will be bringing in their big guns soon, so our job is to work behind their line of defence."

Ros rolled her map up and jammed it into her coat, scooping up her rifle and bolting out the door. Matthias and Lukas did the same, stepping out onto the street. The air was somehow colder now than it had been last night, and Matthias took care to avoid patches of frost he could see icing over the cobbled pavement roads.

The sound was louder here, too, he thought as they ran in the direction of the gunfire. He could hear sharp yells from this distance. Glancing behind him, he could see lines and lines of buildings, the sea far away. Turning back, he ducked behind a building as they found gunfire spraying the stones around their feet. Biting his lip, Matthias dared a look around the corner, only to yank his head back as fast as physically possible, bullets clipping the stones where his head had been milliseconds before.

He cursed, glancing to the other side, where Lukas and Ros seemed intimately aware of their predicament, and he returned a pair of frowns with a worried look of his own.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do now?" Ros shouted over the noise. Matthias shrugged, and Lukas sighed, looking at Matthias with concern in his eyes. Matthias drew a deep breath, glancing around in search of a solution. His eyes landed on a fire escape tracking its way up the side of the building.

"The fire escape!" he yelled immediately moving towards it. Some stray bullets were pinging off the metal frame, but it looked infinitely safer than trying to run out the sides of the building. Lukas and Ros darted after him as he raced up it, only coming to a stop when he was on the roof and firmly out of reach of the soldiers below. He whirled around as Lukas jogged to the top of the escape. When Ros emerged, he could see her limping heavily. Alarm shot through his system as he saw blood seeping through her black pants.

"Got nicked." She said, though judging by the strain in her voice, it was a little more than just a 'nick'. Matthias yanked his scarf from his neck as Ros slid to the ground gratefully and Lukas moved to examine the wound. It was long, but shallow. There was just enough blood that Matthias felt concern slice its way through his system. The last thing he wanted was for Ros to bleed out here on the roof. Ros yanked a thin cord from her pocket and hurriedly began to tourniquet the wound. Matthias offered Lukas the scarf – saints knew the prince had much defter hands than he did – and Lukas quickly got to work tightly bandaging it.

Lukas helped Ros up at her own insistence, though he had his hands poised to catch her if she happened to stumble. Matthias leaned over the side of the building, gun in hand as he started to shoot at the squad of Unionists who'd shot Ros. He watched maybe four of five of them crumple before sliding back below the minimal cover provided by the building's ledge. He sighed.

"I think we'll have to hold out here for a while until our own forces can push through." He muttered to them. "Ros, keep pressure on that leg." Ros nodded, complying, and Matthias sat by Lukas' side as they waited for the tide to change.

* * *

 _8:38am_

"Are you sure that you'll be okay?" Lukas asked Ros as she was hauled into one of the medic trucks that had been shooting around the city. She nodded, and though her face was pale, her smile was genuine. Lukas, Ros and Matthias had managed to get down from the roof about a half hour ago, and to their relief, there had been a medical officer nearby. The woman had taken one look at Ros' still steadily-bleeding leg and declare that she needed to be treated. The girl certainly hadn't been pleased to get pulled off the battlefield after just a few hours, but the coldness of her skin and the shaking of her body had been enough to convince Lukas that it was a good decision.

The rebels, uninhibited by the few outposts that normally would have been pouring bullets down on top of them, had managed to break through the Union's front line of defence, and they had resorted to devoting all of their energy towards trying to sabotage their minor strongholds of power throughout the city. If they could knock out the small ones, the big ones would soon follow.

Lukas stepped away as the truck revved its engine and peeled away, headed for the rock-face where rebel medical officers were waiting to intercept the wounded. He bit his lip anxiously, and felt Matthias' arm on his shoulder, warm and comforting.

"She'll be fine. She's a tough cookie." He said sagely, grinning at Lukas. Lukas reciprocated the smile, before he heard a shout.

"Christensen! Køhler! There you are!" they turned, smiling as they saw Malin approaching them, grinning wearily. She had blood splattered over the left side of her face, and there was grime caked thick under her nails, but she seemed unharmed. Sigurd, Nina, Hans, Birgitte and Faena were behind her, looking relieved to be seeing them. "Glad to see neither of you has been offed yet. You seen Ros?"

"Got shot in the leg." Lukas said simply, jerking a thumb in the direction of the truck. "She just got hauled away by medics." Malin nodded.

"Well, I'm sad to see my second out of commission, but it's good that the medics have her." Malin sighed. "What about you two? You holding up all right?" Lukas nodded wearily, seeing Matthias do the same in his peripheral vision. Malin hummed, glancing around. "There's some Lieutenant General who's meant to be telling us what to do next. I guess we'll have to wait and see."

No sooner had they greeted their weary but unharmed squad-mates, a shout rang out across the square. Turning, they spotted a tall man with wild grey hair, who was evidently the Lieutenant General that Malin had mentioned. The man had a scowl on his face, and Lukas exchanged a brief look at Matthias they all gathered around him.

"Alright, listen up. Our main job is to make sure that the brunt of our forces don't get overwhelmed. The Union's got pathways cut into the rock down by the bayside that they're gonna be bringing heavy artillery through. In addition to that, they're also setting up snipers in the front line of buildings around our approaching forces. This group is gonna be splitting into two. One half will be acting as saboteurs down by the waterfront, and the other half will be picking off the snipers." He looked around, glaring. "Any questions?" when no-one responded, he grunted and moved through, randomly plucking people and shoving them to one side or the other.

Lukas ended up in the same group as Matthias, but he didn't feel relieved somehow. His stomach was cramping, twisting itself up in nervous knots. He folded his arms over his gut, pressing them into it as pain tore its way through his lower abdomen. He felt nausea creep up his throat. He recognised this feeling. It was the same sensation he had felt when his parents had been murdered. The Lieutenant General barked at their group that they were going to be taking out the snipers, and he abruptly realised the cause. The other group was set to head down to the seawall, and he could see Nina among them.

Synnøve's cryptic prophecy for Nina swam to the fore of his mind as he looked at his squad-mate's rapidly paling face. _Keep away from seawalls at all costs_. Biting his lip, he shot a regretful look at Matthias before wandering over to the Lieutenant General.

"I'd like to swap groups, please." He muttered. The older man glared at him.

"And why the hell do you want to do that?" he spat. "Not satisfied with my choosing skills, boy?" Lukas clenched his fists, too tired and high-strung to bother trying to talk his away around it.

"Let me swap with someone from the other group." He said, and anyone listening in would have heard the odd, ringing quality that signified him using his abilities. The Lieutenant-General's harsh expression slackened ever so slightly, and he nodded.

"Fine. Make it quick." He said dismissively. Lukas ducked his head respectfully for a moment before wandering over to the group set to head down to the seaside. Nina looked vaguely nauseous.

"Nina!" he called out. When she turned, he jerked his thumb towards the other group. "You and I are swapping groups. You'll be working with the snipers instead." She looked puzzled, but immensely relieved.

"Why are we swapping?" she asked. Lukas shrugged.

"Because I convinced him it was a good idea." He said simply. "I know enough about the Sjela to know that you shouldn't dismiss their prophecies as nothing." When he looked at Nina again, she looked about ready to cry. As it was, she shook her head slightly and stepped forwards, hugging him tightly.

"You're a damned good person, you know that?" she said, her voice breaking slightly as she released him, smiling through the low film of tears on her eyes. "Be careful, Lukas." He nodded, raising a hand in farewell as the group he had just joined set off. He was the only one there from his whole squad, he realised. He shoved his mild discomfort down as he followed his group to the waterfront.

* * *

 _9:56am_

Matthias ducked as a grenade flew over his head, trailing smoke before it landed a far distance behind him and exploded, sending shards of shrapnel cascading around. He heard a strangled cry of pain that made him wince in sympathy. Clearly, someone had been too close when it detonated. He raised his head and glanced around, darting over to crouch behind a low wall when he spotted Hans squatting there. His squadmate shot him a harried look before adjusting his gun to point it over the low wall and fire at some Union soldiers further down the street.

"This is fucking insane." Hans spat out as he ducked back under their cover again. "How many of them are there?" Matthias shook his head in disbelief. The rebels hadn't been wrong when they had said that the Union would be drawing in as many of their forces as possible. He cursed, reloading his rifle when he noted that it was empty, joining Hans as they both aimed and fired at the advancing soldiers.

"I'm starting to feel that this battle might not be in our favour." Matthias said weakly. Hans nodded grimly, raising his rifle to fire again.

"Yeah, that's the truth. The next wave doesn't even come through until 1. It looks like we'll all be dead by then." Hans lowered his rifle as Matthias covered for him, rummaging around in his bag before pulling out a sleek black capsule. Matthias shuffled back a little as Hans smashed one end into the low stone wall and hurled it over towards the hordes of Union soldiers. There was a beat of total silence before it detonated, sending bright, blue flames surging outwards as it combusted. Matthias blinked in shock as he felt the wave of heat on his face, hunching down a little to get better cover.

Water ran over his boots, and he realised abruptly that it was the frost that had iced over the streets. The fires had burned so hot that it had melted all of it and sent it cascading down the hill. Peering over the wall, he could see that the air around the detonation site itself was steamy. Shaking his head, Matthias staggered to his feet and helped Hans up to as they darted down a narrow side street.

Noting that one of the doors was open, he darted inside. It looked like a normal house, though all of the furniture had been overturned, and there was shattered glass decorating the ground. He heard a scream as he angled his head up to stare at the stairs leading up. Matthias' face etched itself into a scowl as he headed upstairs.

The Union had occupied Jostenberg since the Expansion, it was true, but there had always been safeguards in place that meant they couldn't use and abuse the remaining population however they wanted. If a person or their family acted out, they got sent to a labour camp or punished in another way, but if one kept their head down and obeyed the Union, they could generally expect to be left alone.

But war had no rules or safeguards, and open combat definitely didn't have any protections for the people still stuck living here. The twisted and vicious Union guards who might have suppressed their worst urges and behaviours before had taken the rebel assault on Jostenberg as a sign to finally let their most horrific sides become visible. Matthias hadn't directly witnessed any of this yet, but he had heard plenty from Nina, Hans and the twins from when they had been over on the western side of the city.

Matthias' careful ascent turned into a jog as he heard the sounds of children crying. There were signs that people had been dragged along the ground here. Glancing back, he saw that Hans had followed him up, and had a similar look of grim determination in his eyes.

They stopped on the third level, glancing carefully up through the stairwell to ascertain what was happening. From the limited amount Matthias could see, there was a group of people tied up above. Judging by their frightened faces and ordinary clothing, they were civilians. Matthias clenched his teeth when he heard a frightened scream again. All of the people tied up winced. Gripping his rifle, he and Hans exchanged a look before slowly moving upstairs.

The top of the stairs met the fourth floor in such a way that when they stepped up, the group of people tied up had their backs to them. Matthias could see a door, partially ajar, which was where the screaming and sobbing was coming from. He moved forwards slowly and carefully. One of the civilians must have heard something, because they jerked and twisted around, their eyes widening in shock when she spotted him and Hans. Her eyes crinkled and she let out a muffled sob of relief. Matthias darted over to her and cut away the gag on her mouth.

"Hey, hey, you're alright, okay?" he murmured, giving her a quick up and down to determine if she was hurt. She nodded, and the other civilians looked like they were trying to be as quiet as possible when Hans started to cut away their bonds. "Listen, okay, calm down and listen-" he paused for a moment as the woman struggled to take deep breaths, "Listen, how many soldiers are there?" she took another deep breath, holding up four fingers. He nodded, repeating the gesture to Hans. Hans nodded, and they both straightened up, peering into the room through the crack in the door.

There were six Fynknian people on the floor, two of which were small children. There was an elderly man next to the children, who had his hands pressed over their eyes. Matthias shifted his eyes right and felt a shudder pass down his spine. A man in his thirties or forties, likely the father of the small children, was lying on the floor, blood pooling around him. In addition to the elderly man, there was a middle-aged woman with tears streaming down her face. One Union guards were restraining the elderly man and children, and another was physically holding the older woman down.

When Matthias adjusted his position, he spotted the others, and the cause of the screaming. The remaining two Union guards were gripping the wrists and ankles of a girl who looked about seventeen or eighteen years old. She was struggling like a wild animal, thrashing and punching and kicking at whatever she could reach. It was easy to see what the two guards were trying to do by the leers on their faces and the young woman's clothes, which looked torn and in disarray. Matthias felt rage build inside him.

He made a few gestures to Hans, who nodded and gripped his rifle, before they slid into a position where they could both aim at the soldiers holding the old man, woman and children. The old man spotted them, and Matthias saw his eyes widen a fraction of a second before a bullet from Matthias' gun buried itself in the skull of the Union soldier holding him.

The other one crumpled to the ground a moment later, and as they both advanced into the room, Matthias saw the other two drop the young woman they had been holding, reaching for their guns. They were too slow, though, and they were both falling to the ground a moment later, blood splattering across the wall behind them. The girl they had dropped let out a strangled gasp, shuffling back across the floor frantically for a moment before she saw their coats and let out a sob, covering her face with her hands as Matthias kneeled by her side and checked for injuries.

The older woman cried out in relief, staggering to her feet and rushing over to the girl. Matthias shifted out of the way as he watched them hug one another tightly, sobbing. He was still for a moment, unsure of what to do before the woman released who he assumed was her daughter, and promptly threw herself at him next. He patted her on the back gently as she cried into his shoulder.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you…" she said, rambling out her gratitude as Matthias carefully extricated himself from her grip, sending her a slightly strained smile.

"Don't thank me." He said sincerely as the mother continued to sob into her hands. He turned to Hans, who looked very uncomfortable not least due to the fact that the elderly man was gripping his hands and bowing repeatedly. "We need to keep moving." Hans nodded, carefully stepping away from the man nodding respectfully. Matthias turned back to the woman and her daughter. "Lock yourselves in the attic and barricade the entrance. Try to avoid going downstairs if necessary. The fight on the streets is getting nasty." The woman nodded, clutching her daughter to her. Matthias nodded to them both one last time before grabbing Hans by the arm and hauling him out the door.

* * *

 _11:19am_

"Fuck." Lukas cursed as he tried to shift a little more to the side, trying to avoid the bullets racing past his half-exposed arm.

As it had turned out, there were a lot of Union soldiers down by the waterfront indeed. Lukas bit his lip, frowning at his empty gun. He had given half his extra ammunition to a girl in their group with none, and now he himself was without a long-range weapon. He had been using a small, spare pistol he had on his belt to return fire. His sword was still strapped to his side, but it would hardly help against soldiers armed with machine guns. As it was, he didn't have a way of getting past them. He had gotten separated from his group and pinned down next to Jostenberg's 10-metre high black stone seawall. He shuffled across, pressing one shoulder to the wall as he looked around frantically for some sort of reprieve.

He had resorted to using an abandoned truck as cover, and though he was as of yet unharmed, the sheer number of holes that had gotten punched through its steel sheet surface meant that it wasn't going to make for effective cover for much longer.

He looked up and down the length of the street. There was a good fifteen-metre gap between the seawall and the first line of buildings; evidently done as a precautionary measure in the case of bad storms or even the structural failure of the seawall itself. Though it meant he could easily see if there were any more enemies approaching, it also meant that if he attempted to run towards the buildings, he would be riddled with bullet holes within seconds.

Lukas sat up, pressing his hands to his temples. He really didn't see any option other than for him to use his abilities. If anyone saw, it would make for an immediate end to his guerrilla squad career. There was no way in hell that Galina Hansen, who had refused to let even _relatives_ of the royal family fight out of fear for their safety, would let the crown prince run around with a guerrilla squad in the wildest areas that the planet had to offer.

He reached out to the water he could sense beyond the seawall beside him, and recoiled when he felt the sea push _back_. His heart sank as abruptly, an old lesson he had received from his father came back to mind.

 _"Lakes are placid pools that you can use as your own playground, and rivers are surging beasts you can bring under your own control, but the sea is its own creature, and I wouldn't recommend trying to tame it."_

Lukas swore. His own father, who had average strength abilities where their family was concerned, had struggled at times even with some strong rivers. The sea, and more specifically, _controlling_ the sea, was something that most Bondeviks never even attempted to do. Lukas slumped down the side of the seawall. He recalled what Faena had said, about the reading he had supposedly received on the meter. Mid-1800s would be a record-making score, and it was almost certainly inaccurate. Delmar Bondevik, one of his ancestors, had broken all sorts of records with his score of 1731; he had been the most powerful member of their family who had ever lived. He had been able to tame the sea.

Lukas wanted nothing more than to bury his head in his hands and cry right then and there, but he forced down his feelings and considered his other options.

He could try and use the _sjeltanker_ on them, but there were countless soldiers out there, and he really hadn't tried to test using it to such a large extent on so many people at once. He closed his eyes briefly. He had to try, at least.

Shuffling back so he was leaning on his knees, he delved into his own mind and reached out.

There were dozens of them, both lined up waiting to fire and those already pointing their guns in his direction. He could feel the insane mess of emotions running around in their heads. Shaking his head, he released his hold. He had an idea, but it wouldn't work for long.

Focussing on the front line of soldiers, he took control of their minds. He convinced them, nudged them to shuffle sideways, so that they were standing in front of thee next line of infantry. Then, poising himself to run, he made them lower their guns. He watched it happen, and, throwing caution to the wind, bolted for the building line. A chorus of shocked yells reached his ears as he ran. He felt a bullet clip his leg, and another buried itself in his left shoulder. A yelp of pain escaped him, but he was safe.

Lukas shoved at the fabric swaddling his left shoulder pulling it away to examine the bloody wound. It was bleeding, but not as heavily as he had feared. Feeling lightheaded and his shoulder screaming in pain, he pressed his back against the wall, breathing heavily. He could tell the soldiers who had hunkered down and been firing at him were coming for him now. Glancing up the street, towards the inland, he could see more gathering. He felt his heart sink. He couldn't manipulate all of these people.

Closing his eyes, he tried reaching out, but his shoulder throbbed in intense, unbelievable pain and broke him from his stupor. Sobbing and pressing a hand to his shoulder, he tried again, but there was no point. He would have struggled to exert any sort of influence over so many people normally, never mind having just been shot.

He could hear the waves crashing languidly beyond the seawall, and he abruptly felt rage course its way through his system. Regardless of what he could do, he wasn't going to go down without a fight. He thought of Matthias, and his stomach twisted. If he was going to die, he wanted it to at least be clear that the bounty hunter had done everything he could. The blond and his friends shouldn't suffer for Lukas' idiocy.

 _I will not die here_. He thought furiously. _Please, saints, don't let me die here._

He focussed on the sound of the waves, and reached. The sea fought back, and he reached further. It was fighting him, forcing his back. He reached down, to the depths of his power. It felt like he was swimming down through an underground cave, and he was about to reach the bottom.

Then, abruptly, he wasn't at the bottom.

If he was a diver almost at the bottom of an underwater cave, he had just knocked against the stones, and they had fallen away, and he had seen even more below it. Not just a little, not a small extra cave or pocket of space. An endless abyss, black and gaping.

His back straightened up, and every muscle in his body went rigid as his breath caught in his lungs. His hands fell away from his shoulder as he felt power course through him. The limits of his power, or what he had thought were his limits, were just…gone. Where he had thought he was scraping against the last vestiges of his ancestral power he now felt raw, untapped energy surging endlessly. There was no limit. It wasn't a well of power, it was an ocean, stretching further and darker and deeper than anyone could imagine.

 _This is what a meter score of 1,847 feels like_. He didn't know where the number came from, but it somehow felt right. His eyes felt like they were on fire, but as he turned his gaze towards the seawall, he found it didn't bother him. He reached. The sea fought. He fought back. Its resistance crumbled, and he _pulled_.

The ground shuddered slightly, and Lukas turned to see a glass bottle fall from its position on a windowsill and shatter on the ground. The wind picked up, blowing droplets of water into his face as he inhaled the scent of salt on the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see birds flying through the air, hurrying away from the coast. The soldiers had stopped moving, and he saw one of them turn their head towards the coast and look. And he saw their face go white as they yelled something in Yanish and turned and bolted.

Lukas wandered into the middle of the street, clenching and unclenching his fists. When he looked into his reflection in the glass, he went still. His pupils were dilated, so much so that they took up almost all of his eyes. There was blood running from his nose. A low roar met his ears, and he tilted his head back to stare at the sky as water came thundering over the seawall.


	36. The Kill Zone

**Thank you so much for your reviews last week! It's beyond flattering that people continue to read and enjoy this, and I'm very glad that everyone has stuck with me for as long as they have. I love you all 3**

 **If any of you were curious about the status of me turning this into an original series, so far I have fixed up and changed the names of pretty much all main characters. So far only 3 get to keep their first names, rip.**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- The Battle of Jostenberg!**  
 **\- Lukas, Matthias and the rest of the squad arrived at Jostenberg to fight. They met Galina Hansen, who seems to be the senior official that Malin fancies.**  
 **\- After fighting for several hours, Ros was injured and taken away to recuperate by medics. The remaining squad members were sorted into two groups, one bound for the waterfront and the other for the city's backmost buildings.**  
 **\- Lukas switched places with Nina after realising that she would be down by the seawall.**  
 **\- Matthias and Hans saved a family from a group of rogue unionists.**  
 **\- After being pinned down and injured by enemy fire, Lukas unleashed his abilities, finding that his limits are far, far wider than he initially thought. He 'pulled' the sea towards Jostenberg, causing a tsunami**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- A tsunami and scene of near-drowning**  
 **\- Mild violence, gory wounds and language**

 **Pls review, and have a lovely week! :DDD**

* * *

 _City of Jostenberg,  
Leirfjord Region, Fynkn,  
28th Augynt_

 _11:27am_

Matthias yanked his axe from the bloody mess it had made of another Union soldier, making a face at the blood coating one side as he sighed wearily. He had somehow ended up moving through the streets with Hans, Faena and Malin, fulfilling the duty they'd been assigned in trying to make the attacking rebel forces' jobs easier. He could see Sigurd, Birgitte and Nina up ahead. Since the three of them were the best shots, and had guns in the best conditions, he and the others had ceded their remaining ammunition to them. While the three of them fought long-range, Matthias and the others had resorted to using their more traditional weapons to take out lurking Union soldiers.

Sighing, he stepped away from the bodies littering the ground and followed Faena, who had a pair of daggers clutched in her hands as she moved through, searching for any signs of movement. It had been a long day already, and it wasn't even noon yet. Matthias blinked hard, trying to dispel the headache that had settled behind his temples. He was in need of rest, but it was unlikely that he would get any. The next wave of soldiers weren't set to start attacking until 1pm. He sighed. They wouldn't get relief for a long while, unfortunately, which meant that, considering how exhausted he was already, he'd be dead on his feet by the time the afternoon rolled around.

Cracking his neck from side to side, Matthias jogged up a small set of stairs leading up to the next shallow step of land that Jostenberg was built on. They had been going in and out of buildings, attacking Union soldiers trying to give civilians trouble as well as keep on their mission of taking out any potential snipers. Nina, as their own sniper and resident expert on the subject, had been pointing out nooks and crannies where armed Unionists had been hiding out for hours now. She looked enormously relieved to be in their group, and Matthias couldn't blame her. Synnøve's cryptic prophecy concerning seawalls had almost come true, and would, if not for Lukas' intervention.

Matthias bit his lip. As glad as he was that Nina's ominous warning wasn't being fulfilled somehow, he was more worried about where Lukas was. He hated not knowing how the prince was doing, and it honestly had absolutely nothing to do with the deal he had made with Yao. He cared about the younger man, and thinking of him out by the waterfront, possibly without adequate protection, was making Matthias feel sick to his stomach.

He followed the others inside another building, trying to focus on the task at hand. Lukas was an incredibly capable fighter, not to mention far more intelligent than most other people on Fynkn. He would probably be completely fine; Matthias was worrying for nothing.

They moved through this building very quickly, not least due to the fact that other than a few frightened civilians and one feisty nine-year-old girl with a sharp knife, it was empty. They reassembled in the main downstairs room. Malin was shaking her head, looking just as worn down as Matthias felt.

"Anyone find anything?" she asked. At the collective shaking of heads, she sighed wearily. "Okay, that's good I suppose." She combed her hair back from her face, turning to walk out the door. "We should keep moving down the street, then."

Malin's hand was extended to reach the doorknob when Birgitte abruptly threw her hand out to bar her from doing so. Malin blinked at her, looking bewildered. Birgitte's expression slackened in shock and horror.

"Birgitte? What's…" Faena trailed off hesitantly, frowning at her sister. Birgitte spun to face her, going white as she did so.

"We need to run." She said, voice deadly serious. They all exchanged looks as Birgitte grabbed Malin's arm and moved it away from the door, her expression clouding with fear.

"Birgitte, what the hell is going on?" Faena asked, starting to sound a little panicked. Birgitte held up a hand.

"Listen." She murmured. "You hear that?"

When they all fell silent, Matthias realised that he could actually hear something. It was an odd, low roar, like a strong rushing of wind. They all exchanged looks again as Birgitte pivoted and threw the door open and strode out into the street. Matthias remained rooted to the spot, watching as Birgitte turned and looked towards the sea. She pressed her lips into a thin line before darting back inside.

"Upstairs. We all need to get upstairs now. Normally we should try to get more uphill, but it's too far in already." She murmured to them, shoving them forcefully towards the stairs.

"Birgitte, _what_ is going on?" Malin demanded as the normally quiet girl ushered them up to the second floor. She didn't respond, instead biting her lip and surveying the area before pushing them further up the stairs. "Birgitte, _explain_." Malin snapped, standing her ground and staring the younger woman down. Birgitte blinked, and a vibrant flush overtook her face as she seemed to come to her senses.

"Tsunami." She choked out. "I don't know how or why, but there's a tsunami."

As if summoned via divine cue, Matthias felt the entire building shake, the roaring becoming overwhelmingly loud. He darted over to the railing of the stairwell and looked down, stomach dropping as he watched the door burst open, a wave of dirty, salty water pouring inside. He gawked in shock for a moment as he watched the water levels rise, faster and faster and faster, before he staggered away from the railing and darted over to the window that some of the others were gathered around.

Peering over their heads, he stared out at the street, which had been completely submerged. The water was already filthy, and it had collected dirt and countless objects and items of furniture during its journey here from beyond the seawall.

Matthias felt his entire body go cold.

"Oh no." he murmured. When the others looked at him, he swallowed heavily, gripping the banister to keep his hands from shaking. "Lukas." Nina went white, and even Hans looked incredibly harrowed by that thought. Matthias poked his head out of the window, staring as far as he could back to the seawall. He could still see that the wall itself was standing, through judging by the height of certain sections of the waves, parts had collapsed from the sheer pressure. The initial waves would have to have been more than ten metres high, to have gotten over that wall. The first two blocks in front of the seawall itself were completely inundated.

He could feel himself shaking, and he jumped when Malin put a hand on his shoulder. Her own expression was strained.

"We don't know where he was when those waves hit, alright, so we need to just stay calm for now. He could be completely fine." Matthias nodded, desperately grasping that thought and holding it close. Lukas was innovative and very capable. He was smart. He would be fine.

He would be fine, right? Matthias' chest felt tight, and he knew enough about both basic physiology and his own body to know that he was on the verge of a panic attack. He nodded, perhaps a few too many times, as he forced himself to step away from the window. Faena reached out and took his arm as they all moved further upstairs, looking deeply concerned. He could feel her attempts to calm him down using her abilities, but it felt wrong, somehow. She didn't have the warmth, ease or capability that Lukas did, and her attempts left him more panicked than before.

They eventually decided to settle up on the fourth floor, where they had a good view from the windows of the water surging through the city. Faena escorted Matthias over to one of the least damaged chairs in the room, and he buried his head in his hands, breathing ragged and trying to focus on anything except how worried about Lukas he was.

"Saints, what a freak thing, huh?" he heard Faena murmur to her sister. He shuddered slightly as a part of him started to wonder if it was a 'freak' thing at all.

* * *

 _11:30am_

Where consequences were concerned, Lukas tended to have a bit of an issue in easily foreseeing all of them. One excellent example was his current predicament.

It had felt incredible to reach out to the ocean and pull it to him, to ask for aid and then reach out an arm and take it. The sensation of raw power flooding his veins had blinded him to one of the consequences of his actions that he normally would have had the intelligence to predict.

Namely, that he had just asked the ocean to rise up when he himself was standing less than a hundred metres away from it. He had noticed the darkness of his eyes and the blood running from his nose a moment before the water had rushed over the wall, and he had fallen to his knees just a millisecond later, his entire body worn down entirely from the feat it had just helped undertake. His senses had returned maybe half a second after that, by which time he'd only had enough time to suck in a deep breath and throw his hands over his head before the water smashed into him with the force of a bullet train.

The words 'up' and 'down' and 'left' and 'right' ceased to mean anything in about two seconds.

He couldn't feel the solid pull of gravity, just the endless forwards surge of the water as it threw him like a ragdoll. He was slammed into something that could have been the ground or the side of a building, and he felt a large object that could have been anything ranging from a pot to a table to part of a vehicle slam into the side of his head. The little noise that he had been hearing dissolved into buzzing, and he felt his vision – already fucked from the saltwater and the endless motion – twist itself around even further.

His lungs were burning, and try as he might to force himself to the surface, he could no longer tell where the surface _was_. He was being dragged further into Jostenberg at a speed of maybe 30 kilometres an hour, and he couldn't breathe. He was trying to keep his eyes closed, but they were being forced open by the water continuously.

His chest was tight, and after what could have been ten seconds or several minutes, he couldn't deal with it anymore. The air escaped his lungs in a rush, and the saltwater rushed in. He choked, stomach and lungs both trying to reject the foreign invader as he thrashed in the water, legs kicking wildly in an attempt to find his way back to the surface.

Something made contact with his leg and held fast. He screamed as he felt his knee dislocate as he was brutally swung past by the water. His back made contact with something too, and stayed pressed against it. He forced his hands towards it, and wrapped his fingers around something hard and slim. A choked sob escaped his mouth as more water forced its way into his throat.

It was a fire escape, he realised with a shock as he felt his head start to swim and his lungs burn. He was slammed up against the side of a building. Grabbing the metal, he yanked his leg free, holding back a further scream of pain before frantically scrabbling at the metal, yanking himself what felt like upwards. He felt heavy and dizzy now, and he knew he didn't have much longer until his body succumbed to the water and he drowned.

He felt abrupt coldness on his hand. Air.

He dragged himself out of the water, holding his head and shoulders out of the surging tide as he vomited up filthy saltwater and pressed himself close to the metal railing, shuddering all over as he frantically dragged air in and out of his lungs. He could feel heat flooding down the side of his face, and his hand came away red when he brushed his fingers over it. Huge swathes of his body were bruised or scraped. His knee was dislocated, potentially broken or fractured by now, and he still had the bullet hole in his left shoulder to worry about, too.

Shaking, Lukas surveyed the area around him, turning to look behind him. The seawall wasn't even visible anymore, but he could tell that he was a good four or five blocks away from it. Judging by what he could see of the flooded area around him, even this far into the city, the water was a good storey or more deep.

 _I did this. I fucking did this. How the fuck did I do this?_ He thought, pressing himself to the railing again, closing his eyes and letting out another choked sob.

His side was aching, as was his leg, back and shoulder. Now that he wasn't drowning and was able to take inventory on his injuries, he could also feel what must have the nasty cut at his temple, throbbing with pain every few seconds. He could feel hot blood pouring down the side of his face, and he bent his head close to the metal, shaking as the water thundered by, it's pull almost irresistible. His whole body felt weak, probably as a result of both blood loss and being thrown around so violently earlier. He shuddered, pressing his face to the metal again.

Casting his eyes around again, he felt hopelessness surge up inside him. The entire street was submerged, endless hordes of furniture and other objects being pushed through the water. There was any number of hidden dangers beneath the surface, as his battered body could attest to. Detaching himself from the fire escape could result in further injury and near drowning, but he also knew that he couldn't stay here. Even though the coldness of the seawater wasn't an issue for him per se, his injuries were, and even his stubborn ass knew that these would need medical attention.

Lukas cursed, sweeping the area once more, eyes lingering on a battered, waterlogged truck that was drifting along, much slower than most of the stuff around it. Sucking in a deep breath, Lukas closed his eyes briefly, murmuring a brief prayer to the Fynknian saints he had been taught about in his childhood. He released his grip on the fire escape, and let the water carry him. He swung his limbs around to keep himself above the surface this time, and he let out a sigh of relief when he managed to grab onto the handle of one of the truck's doors as he was drifting past. Holding on tight, Lukas relaxed marginally as he bobbed much more slowly down the street. He had caused a _fucking_ _disaster_ in this city, and though he had escaped his old predicament, the one he had created was far, far worse.

* * *

 _11:45am_

Galina stared at her shaky-looking subordinate, her mouth moving but refusing to produce any words.

"I'm sorry," she managed after a long moment of silence _, "what?!"_. The thin man was wringing his hands, staring around nervously. She knew that she often came across as intimidating, but she didn't have the patience to try and soften her demeanour right now.

"There's a tsunami moving through the city." The man repeated. "It's completely inundated the first four blocks by the coastline, and it's moving quickly."

"Jostenberg is surrounded by a 10-metre high seawall." She said, her mind refusing to comprehend what she was being told. "Are you telling me that those waves somehow overwhelmed that wall?" the man nodded, and Galina took a step back, rubbing her forehead. "Is it visible from here?" the man nodded again, pointing out to the ledge that their troops had been gathered on earlier in the week.

"Yes, Kommandor. The binoculars may help you." Nodding numbly, she strode outside, onto the windy ledge, scooped up a pair of binoculars resting on the ground and took a look for herself.

There was a _fucking_ _tsunami_ rushing through the city.

She lowered the binoculars numbly, staring at the surging water roaring over the seawall and the high waves coursing up streets and back alleys, rushing inside buildings and knocking weaker structures to the ground. She felt her chest constrict painfully, and she tossed the binoculars back onto the ground.

"When did it hit?" she asked, doing her best to sort her way methodically through the information.

"About twenty minutes ago." The young man said. "Most troops should have either gotten a warning or seen it in person by now. We sent out a call for our attacking soldiers to withdraw." She nodded.

"Good. Have everyone regroup here. We'll need to figure out some way of extracting the rest of our soldiers from the city itself." She rubbed at her chin. "I suppose most boats out in the harbour would have been thrown into the wall or carried over, yes?" the young man nodded, pointing. Following the line of his finger, she spotted a humble fishing boat tumbling along in the water before it clipped the side of a building and was sent into a violent spin.

Wincing, she turned away. "I'll need to inform the next wave of soldiers that they aren't going anywhere for now." She murmured, turning on her heel and marching away from the ledge.

They had moved their soldiers into the series of low caves and passageways that both man and time had carved into the rock face. Not only did it stop the Union from having an accurate read on how many soldiers they had, but it also meant that they couldn't get psyched out by looking at what was happening down in the city itself. Galina made a face. As good an idea as it had been, she did wish she had been aware of the tsunami sooner.

Her thoughts strayed briefly to Malin as she signalled to one of her associates to get everyone assembled and quiet. She had known the woman for several years by now, and the other never failed to surprise her. She could only hope that the Captain was able to pull off another elaborate escape this time. Watching the fiery woman be lost to the waves would be a tragedy like none other. Galina swallowed the lump that rose in her throat at the mere thought, and focussed her attention on her soldiers.

"Is this concerning the next assault, Kommandor?" one her higher-ranking subordinates asked, their voice ringing out. Sighing, Galina nodded, sweeping her gaze across everyone assembled there. So many of them had come together to fight the Union and – hopefully – win. She hated how much like a waste it felt now.

"It is indeed." She said simply. "Working with what information I have right now, I can only tell you that it's been called off." At the stunned silence that met her eyes, she ploughed onwards. "About twenty minutes ago, a tsunami hit the city. The first four blocks of land at the waterfront have been completely inundated, and it shows no signs of slowing down. Our troops on the ground have been given orders to either retreat or, if that is impossible, get to higher ground. I'll be providing updates as they come to me." She sighed, stepping down from her position at the head of the group as everyone abruptly remembered they could talk, and spun to face each other with shock painted on their features.

"A tsunami?" she turned at the voice that met her ears, nodding gravely when she saw Brigadier General Martin Kvist standing behind her. "How in the system did that happen?" Galina sighed.

"An earthquake, presumably." She said as he started to walk beside her. "That's normally how they come about. It was probably out at sea, far enough that we didn't feel it, but close enough to send the water crashing over the seawall." Kvist nodded. Galina ran a hand back through her tightly braided hair. She could hardly believe this was happening.

"Let's hope our troops noticed in time." He murmured as they walked outside to observe the flooding. She nodded. Kvist was among her favourite subordinates, not least for the fact that even though he was from an upper noble family, he was remarkably humble and compassionate. The Kvist family, in her experience, were one of the few noble families who never tried to assert that they were better than everyone else, which she appreciated a lot. Martin had effectively emptied his own vaults to help fund the rebellion, and he was well-loved for many other reasons as well.

"They're a smart bunch. I believe in them." She murmured even as her chest tightened again. She felt Kvist rest his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sure Malin is fine, too." He murmured. Galina nodded wordlessly, and they both watched the city get overwhelmed by the sea.

* * *

 _1:39pm_

Matthias shuddered as he forced his feet to keep moving through the waist-deep, filthy water, wading past partially-submerged bodies. It had been over two hours since the tsunami had hit Jostenberg, and though they had all initially stayed where they were, fearful of secondary or tertiary waves hitting the city, the sea had retreated somewhat, and it was showing no more signs of rising up as a threat.

It really was sheer luck that Matthias and the rest of their squad had been so far inland when the tidal waves had struck. They had spotted more than one unfortunate soul being mercilessly dragged through the streets by the waves. Even as far in as they were, the entire first floor of the building they had sought shelter in had been submerged for a good hour and a half before the water had started to recede. Once it was low enough for them to wade through, they'd all decided to leave and try to get back to the rockface.

The water levels were gradually dropping, both due to the water retreating back to the sea and them moving further inland, but Matthias couldn't help but keep glancing over his shoulder towards the sea, afraid that any minute now he would see another monstrous wave ready to overwhelm them and drag them down.

They were close to the rock face now, which was a relief. Matthias, already exhausted, felt ready to drop dead with fatigue. Wading through the water was hardly an easy task, and definitely not with his heavy axe strapped to his back. He had lost his rifle and misplaced one of his small knives, but the axe he had managed to hold onto. It was a relief, honestly. After all of the sentimentality behind the giving of the gift, he didn't want to lose it in the first proper battle he was in.

Matthias sighed in relief when he saw a set of stairs leading up to the next flat level of the city. It was blissfully free of water, save what looked to be a few puddles, and he almost sobbed in relief when he staggered up them, finally free from the water. He had no reason to be so upset; there were many more people who had been caught in the tsunami itself, and undoubtedly some people killed by it. He should be trying to keep himself together.

He heard yells as the others staggered up behind him, and suddenly there were rebels running towards them. For a moment he feared the worst, and wondered if another wave was coursing through the city, but he saw nothing but relieved smiles on the faces of the approaching soldiers, and he let himself finally relax.

"Oh saints, you guys have really been wading through it, huh?" one woman with a medic patch on her arm said, tone sympathetic as she looked over them carefully. "It sure is a mess out there. Come on now, let's get the lot of you cleaned up, yeah?" Matthias could only nod numbly and follow her. He somehow ended up in the back of a truck, with Faena pressing her face into his arm as she shivered. A small part of him rationalised that he was in shock, but it didn't stop time from slipping and melting away.

One minute they were on the devastated streets, and the next they were at a ramshackle camp, being gently escorted down and led over to a med tent. Matthias couldn't stop his eyes from wandering, searching out the lean, scowling face he knew so well as a patient medic patched up his injuries. His search yielded nothing, though, and he felt his heart sink further. He would have given his right arm just to have the prince sidle up next to him and make some snarky comment.

After being treated, he was escorted out of the med tent, with a thick wool blanket wrapped around him. Their squad, silent and grave, found a spare patch of ground and sat in a circle, silently trying to comfort each other without speaking or moving. Matthias fisted his hands tightly in the folds of the blanket, trying to direct his thoughts in any direction but Lukas. He couldn't get the snarky Fynknian out of his head though, and he desperately tried to keep his breathing level as he felt panic threatening to overwhelm him again.

"Malin? Thank the saints you're safe." They all turned at the intrusion, seeing Galina Hansen standing nearby, eyes fixed on their Captain, looking incredibly relieved. Malin nodded, smile strained. Galina's relieved look faltered, and the Kommandor straightened up. "Something's wrong." Malin nodded, and Matthias knew he didn't imagine the tears budding at the corners of her eyes.

"One of my squad members is missing." Malin murmured. "Lukas Christensen. He was down by the waterfront when the tsunami hit." Galina's face contorted in sympathy as she moved over to Malin's side and placed her hand on her shoulder.

"Malin, if he was near the waterfront, then his chances aren't good." Malin bit her lip, nodding.

"I know, but even if he didn't make it." she said stubbornly. "I'd like to know he was buried properly, at least. His parents are dead, but-"

"He has a sister." Matthias chimed in hollowly. Malin looked at him for a moment, nodding.

"He has a sister." She repeated. "And I'm sure that girl would like to know what came of her brother. So, please, Galina, can you try and find him? Alive or dead. Please." Galina hesitated. Matthias winced. The Kommandor was the busiest person in the entire city. She was in charge of the entire movement. Malin's request might have been compassionate, but the chances of the Kommandor agreeing-

"Okay." Galina interrupted Matthias' train of thought, astonishing the whole squad. "Kvist can watch my duties for the next few hours. I'll try and find him." Malin nodded as Galina released her shoulder and straightened up, nodding respectfully at the rest of them before setting her shoulders in determination and marching off, undoubtedly to fulfil Malin's request.

* * *

 _6:28pm_

Lukas was only half-conscious when he was pulled out of the water by a crew of rebels operating a dodgy boat, but from what he heard later, it happened at about 3:30 or so. Being jolted around while being rescued had robbed him of what little amounts of consciousness he still had, and from the account of the frazzled girl who had helped get him to the med tent he had later woken up in, he had fainted right in her arms.

That was mildly embarrassing, mostly because Lukas prided himself on having a high tolerance for pain. His worn body had been unable to take it, eventually, he supposed. Upon realising that the scrawny kid they had just rescued was bleeding a lot and had, judging by how drenched he was, gotten thrown around by the tsunami a fair amount, he'd been taken back to the makeshift camp at the foot of the cliffs surrounding Jostenberg.

His lack of consciousness had ended up being a good thing, though. His knee had been relocated, the bullet removed from his shoulder and the vicious wound on his head thoroughly cleaned and stitched up, all while he was out cold. It was a relief to hear; the rebels had been sanitising wounds via use of a very strong disinfectant, one that Lukas knew for a fact hurt like a bitch.

Lukas had finally woken up a good three hours after being rescued, as the fumbling, stressed medics had been trying to pull off his waterlogged, freezing and shredded clothes. It was a testament to how disillusioned he was that this development hadn't bothered him too much, and he had simply done what he could to assist them as they replaced his old clothes with thick, warm new ones. He was considered among their more serious cases, so he was kept back and examined further instead of being shunted unforgivingly back into the cold.

He picked up on the rough gist of things as his badly bruised – and potentially fractured – ribs were examined, listening to the low chatter of the people around him. The attack had been halted, though small squads of rebels had been sent into the city to search for survivors and bring them back. The tsunami itself had breached three of the four massive tiers of land that Jostenberg was built on. Overall, it had managed to travel a good eight kilometres inland, and affect a good 75% of the city. He had gone cold when he'd heard that a decent number of drowning deaths had already been confirmed, and he had tried to tune out the voices after that.

He was eventually discharged from the urgent injuries ward with his knee firmly strapped to keep it from dislocating again, thick bandages swaddling his left shoulder, stitches on his head and enough painkillers in his system to tranquilise half the rebel army. About half of his ribs had been fractured, but since they were all still pretty much in position, he had been instructed to be careful in how he moved, and not to exert himself until he could get some better treatment to encourage healing.

Lukas sat by one of the chairs set aside for the injured, sighing as he ran his hands through his damp, bloodied hair. He knew that he was on solid, dry land, but his mind was back in the water, being thrown violently around as water forced its way into his lungs. He breathed in raggedly, fighting back anxiety.

He really did wish that his family's abilities extended to the entirety of the element like the Vargas family's did. It would be endlessly helpful to be able to breathe underwater like the Vargases could withstand any amount of heat, but he supposed all of the Free Court abilities had developed differently; it made sense there wouldn't be too much commonality between them.

He looked up as a young woman with a clipboard approached him, expression sympathetic but professional. She knelt down beside him.

"Hey there. Sorry to bother you, but I'm trying to get a grasp on who's here and rescued, you know? Has anyone like me come around to talk to you?" at him shaking his head, she nodded and straightened up, uncapping her pen. "Alright then. Can you tell me your name and division, please?"

"Lukas Christensen." He muttered as he fiddled with his dog tags, "I'm in guerrilla squad E, under Captain Malin Thomassen." The woman wrote the details down dutifully, nodding.

"Thank you." She said kindly. "Take care." Lukas watched her go absently, resting his head in his hands and waiting as time passed. He really had no clue what to even do now. He had no idea where his squad was, or even if they were who he was meant to be looking for. Sucking in another grateful, shuddering breath of air, he contented himself with sitting and watching the rush of movement past his eyes.

He had been told that in addition to the fractured ribs, he had a concussion to deal with, and Lukas honestly wanted nothing more than to follow the advice of the kind medic who had treated him and sleep, but he knew that doing so in this chair would hardly help his case.

"Lukas Christensen?" he lifted his head, eyes widening as he saw that the person who had asked was Galina Hansen. Shit. He moved to stand, and she waved her hands, quickly but gently pushing him back down and choosing to squat instead. "Don't you dare get up, kiddo. I appreciate the gesture, but I'm not too old to bend my knees yet." He nodded, glad for the consideration as his head swam. He shot her a nervous look, wondering when and why and how she knew his alias. "Calm down, kid, you aren't in any trouble. I'm uhh," she coughed slightly, "I'm good friends with Malin, and she asked me to try and find you." Lukas relaxed, nodding as he leant back in his chair. "I know where your squad is, if you want to see them."

He straightened up, ignoring the stabbing pain that spread through his torso at the movement. His squad? His mind was flooded with thoughts of Matthias and the others, and he hurriedly blinked back tears of relief as he nodded. Galina extended a hand, and, wincing all the while, he took it.

* * *

 _6:53pm_

Matthias hunched his shoulders forward, trying to force his eyes to stay open. The sun was gradually sinking towards the horizon, but it had already sunk down far enough that darkness had been cast over all of the rebels, courtesy of the rock face. It felt like night-time, and Matthias was honestly way too ready to go to sleep. His mind felt too wired to ever sleep again, but his body was running on empty.

They had been given some rather tasteless stew and bread a little earlier, but Matthias knew he would just throw it back up if he bothered to eat it, so he had offered it to Nina instead. His stomach was still churning, concern wracking his whole body. They had been waiting hours for Galina to come back with news of any kind. She had popped back several times only to state that she hadn't found anything in different places, and Matthias was getting sick of it. He wanted to snap at her not to come back until she actually had something worthwhile to say. He knew the Kommandor just wanted to help, but he was getting sick of knowing nothing.

So, when he heard the approaching footsteps and Galina murmuring, "Malin," he didn't lift his head from where it was pressed against his knees. He didn't want to see the mildly dispirited look on the formidable woman's face that would indicate that she yet again had nothing of note.

"Can you come back when you have something useful?" he heard Nina snap at the Kommandor. He raised an eyebrow. They had all shared the same frustrations about Galina, but he didn't think that anyone but himself would voice them. The amount of respect that the average Fynknian had for Galina Hansen was almost insurmountable, after all. Peering out slightly, he saw that Nina also had her face pressed to her knees. He was about to sigh in defeat when a low, raspy voice murmured.

"That's a little rude, Nina."

Matthias went totally still, before his head snapped up so fast he felt his muscles twinge angrily in protest. He didn't care for his aching body, though, and neither did Nina, considering how fast she looked up, sobbed in relief, threw herself to her feet and wrapped her arms around Lukas. He heard a sharp intake of breath before Lukas was gently shoving her away. "Ribs…are fucked." He wheezed out, sounding pained even as he waved off Nina's flurry of apologies.

Matthias staggered to his feet, eyes fixed on Lukas as Nina stepped away. The prince looked rather fucked up, but not so badly that it couldn't be fixed. There was incredibly dark, pronounced bruising on the right side of his face, culminating in a true shiner of a black eye and swelling on his jaw. Matthias could see a long gash that had been stitched up, also on the right side of Lukas' head. The prince was favouring his right leg, indicating that the left was injured in some way. His right arm was also bandaged from knuckle to shoulder, and he could further thick bandaging under his shirt on the left shoulder.

He was battered and bruised and still looked filthy, but he was _alive_.

Matthias' eyes blurred with tears of relief as he pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle sobs. He wiped roughly at his eyes with the backs of his hands, then staggered forward and pulled Lukas into his arms. He was careful to avoid the teen's ribs, shoulder and head as he did so, and he felt the Fynknian relax into his chest and return the hug. One of his hands shifted upwards to cradle the prince against the chest as Matthias pressed his face gently to the top of Lukas' head. He stank of seawater and blood, but Matthias couldn't care less.

"Thank goodness you're okay." He murmured to the prince, only loosening his hold slightly so he could pull away slightly to look at his face. Lukas smiled, even though the motion must have hurt him, what with the bruising.

"It's good to see you didn't get taken out either." The Fynknian murmured, voice warm. "Now I don't have to find a replacement tent-bearer." Matthias huffed out a laugh, drawing Lukas closer for another hug. He felt Lukas press his face into his shoulder, and he sighed, focusing on the warm body in his arms, unbelievably glad that they had both lived to see another day.

 _God, I just want to kiss you._

The thought wasn't intrusive. It just drifted into his consciousness, and as it left, he realised how true it was. It had been true for a while now, Matthias was just too stubborn to see that. He smiled at Lukas, and finally released him from his hold. He stepped away as Faena and Birgitte stepped up to hug him, too. He watched calmly as even Hans gave Lukas a careful pat on the back, making sure to not aggravate the prince's injured shoulder. Matthias let a smile grace his face as Malin stepped away to speak to Galina, and their whole squad pretended not to see that their superiors were holding hands.

He handed his blanket to the prince, ensuring it was solidly wrapped around him before tucking Lukas under his arm as the Fynknian drifted off.

 _You're remarkable. I care about you. I want to protect you_.

The realisation came easily enough, but it didn't make it any easier to digest when Matthias stared down at Lukas' face, locked in a peaceful sleep. It was reality, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it.

 _I really, really like you_.

* * *

 _Resistance Headquarters,  
Draak-Zafi Forra, Nyma,  
30th Augynt_

"The plan isn't too complicated, really, but it is intricate. You've all been specially chosen for this, so I need all ears open and listening, okay?"

Octavia surveyed the room. She and Ayshe had been hard at work considering how best to tackle the problem of the slave on Xexei they had sworn to rescue in the last few days. With their pact with Kabeeta to try and minimise Yao's influence over major decisions and important missions, that had meant cutting their boss out of the planning process entirely. The shortlist of names he had compiled had been a very good one, and it had made Octavia question whether it was wise to exclude the resistance's smartest person from this operation. Ayshe, to her surprise, had been firm on doing what Kabeeta had suggested.

"Believe me, Octavia, I wish this wasn't the way things were going but…" the other woman had sighed, "he…he's sick. He needs help, and dealing with every last bit of pressure that his job puts on him is hardly going to help Yao get better." Octavia had eventually caved and agreed. She and Ayshe had both pulled double shifts in the last few days to finalise the plan and listing for this mission.

She looked around. She was wary of some of the faces in here, but she also still trusted Yao's judgement, even clouded as some of it might well be. The team they had were all capable, and Octavia shoved down her reservations as she looked over the notes she had compiled. Sometimes victory only came when a leader was willing to take a risk. Yao had shown her that time and time again. If she was ever to even be half as capable as him, she needed to let go of the paranoia that had plagued her since Zev's betrayal in Maarch.

Taking a deep breath, she began.

"This mission has two major aspects. Aspect one is the retrieval of the slave herself. Thanks to the intel provided by Barkhado Dirie, we know that this slave can be found working within the Ikcheok Casino in Nonpo-Sunhae, a city on Xexei. This slave is ethnically Lysi, in her mid to late twenties, and answers to the name Linh. This part of the mission will be incredibly intricate. The Ikcheok Casino plays host to the rich and powerful. Those who have been assigned to move through the casino itself will have to act like they never have before. It will be incredibly hard, but I have faith you can pull it off." Octavia looked down at the blueprints of the casino she had pulled up.

"Unfortunately, rescuing the slave isn't the only part of this. When a person is sold, bondage papers are written up for them. These papers dictate legal ownership. They essentially enforce slavery. It doesn't matter if someone has escaped slavery and is living a life elsewhere. If a set of bondage papers can be traced back to them, they will always legally be property. We don't want Linh to suffer something like that. So, while one small team is infiltrating the casino and finding her, the other will be searching the upstairs record rooms for her bondage papers. Both groups will need to be as subtle as possible, and try their best to get in and out undetected."

She looked up again. "Ayshe and I have evaluated all of you, in addition to the tasks set out as a part of this mission. You will all be performing the tasks we have chosen for you. Some of you have already discussed this with us, and these are your final assignments." She nodded to Ayshe, who plucked the piece of paper from the table and started to speak.

"For our second team, who will be looking for Linh's bondage papers, we examined the history of most of you. Xexei uses a unique system for filing, and they also often do not use the Common Standard to categorise this system. People familiar with Xeir paperwork, along with people who have a talent for moving quickly, are going to be the ones doing the paper job." Ayshe looked up, nodding at four of the group assembled. "Francis, Arthur, Kari and Tori, that means all of you." The four nodded, though Octavia didn't miss the sharp look that Francis shot Arthur. She shook her head. She didn't understand those two.

"As for the slave-retrieval, well, we need people who are going to be able to blend in. people who both know what the slavery underworld is like, and people well acquainted with casinos and the like. People who can throw smiles on that look real as anything. People who can act their way out of anything. Feliks, Mei, Leon, that's you three." She said. The snarky blond Pyndaphian, Feliks, inclined his head slightly.

"In terms of specifics for you three, well," Ayshe winced, "Mei, Leon, it does pain me to say this, but we are asking you to pretend to be slaves again." Octavia saw a muscle jump in Arthur's jaw, but he didn't say anything. Mei and Leon nodded; Octavia had discussed it with them a few days ago, and they had both agreed to do it. "Feliks, you'll be posing as their owner." The bounty hunter nodded absently, glancing at the two Yanish teens momentarily before returning his attention to them.

"Elizabeta, Emilia and Alfred are headed to Xexei now. They are going to be assembling an appropriate wardrobe for Feliks, Mei and Leon, as well as setting up a safehouse where we can take Linh after hopefully extracting her without detection." The group of seven nodded, and Octavia straightened up.

"This mission is a delicate one." She said from behind Ayshe. "We are well aware of how hard it will be. Everyone's freedom is on the line, but I know that you are all capable of doing this." She made eye contact with each of them. "I know you don't all offer your loyalty to the resistance, but I know that all of you have at least a small measure of interest in helping us free this girl. So please, do your best, if not for this movement, then for her as an individual."

They all nodded, murmuring their agreement. Octavia dismissed them, and watched silently as they all filtered out of the room.

"That was very well said." Ayshe commented. Octavia smiled slightly, ducking her head.

"Thank you, Ayshe, but I was just speaking the truth." She murmured. Ayshe shrugged one shoulder.

"Don't devalue yourself. You've always been a remarkable speaker." She said lightly. Octavia smiled at her. "You really think they'll pull it off?" Ayshe asked after a moment of silence. Octavia sighed.

"I have to believe they will." She muttered. "We both do."


	37. Money and Other Addictions

**Hey guys! Back once more and I am more exhausted than ever. Life has hit me like a bullet train and I am not having fun. Fair warning, the next few updates may have to be staggered a fair amount, since I have my last few weeks of the semester and final exams coming up and I need to focus. Thank you all for understanding!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- A tsunami caused by Lukas smashed it's way through Jostenberg, injuring many people and also stranding most of Squad E. Lukas got caught in the tsunami itself but made it out alive, albeit badly injured. He was eventually found, treated and returned to Squad E and a very relieved Matthias, who has FINALLY realised that he likes Lukas.**  
 **\- The plan for the slave rescue was laid out by Ayshe and Octavia. The team consists of Arthur, Tori, Francis and Kari, who will be searching for the slave's files in a records room, as well as Feliks, Mei and Leon, who will be disguising themselves to enter the casino and find the slave herself.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Disgusting levels of dennor. Read at your own risk ;D**  
 **\- Swearing, of course**  
 **\- Sexual references**  
 **\- References to domestic violence, injuries, drinking and mental illness**

* * *

 _Drøden Military Camp,  
Lierfjord Region, Fynkn,  
2nd Septombre_

The news came through at about noon.

Lukas had been in the midst of sipping at some rather hot tea when a messenger, face almost split in half for the grin on their face, burst into the medical ward at the Drøden Military Camp and announced that the rebel forces had officially taken the city of Jostenberg. Lukas had inhaled a decent portion of the tea in his mouth by accident and spent a minute or two coughing uncomfortably while the rest of the ward burst into astonished, delirious cheers of excitement and victory.

Even Matthias, who had jumped up from his place next to Lukas' bed to pat him on the back and ease him through the brief choking spat, had a wide smile on his face. Once Lukas had recovered enough to sip some water and finally calm his fluttering lungs, Matthias reached over and wrapped him in another of his warm hugs. Lukas immediately leaned into it and reciprocated, of course, because he had given up trying to resist the overwhelming comfort and pleasantness of a hug from Matthias, but his smile was a little confused when the bounty hunter finally chose to release him.

It wasn't that he disliked how tactile Matthias was; once he had gotten used to it, he had recognised that it was how the bounty hunter showed affection and expressed his emotions, but the blond had been so much more tactile in the last few days especially. He knew that it was probably the whole near-death experience Lukas had suffered through that was making Matthias so affectionate. Saints knew Lukas had spent his last waking hours in Jostenberg checking to see that Matthias was beside him and relatively unharmed.

"Holy shit, I can't believe we've actually gotten some good news for once." Matthias said, pulling Lukas from his thoughts. Lukas nodded, eyes drinking in the sight of the vibrant grin on Matthias' face. "Shit, they actually took the city? I thought there was still a lot of water hanging around."

Lukas inclined his head. "I thought the same thing. I suppose it would have drained away by now, though, or sunk into the ground." He picked up his tea and took a measured sip, averting his eyes from Matthias. "The soldiers probably had a lot to work through, though."

"I don't know about that." Matthias said simply. "The tsunami really was helpful, in the long term, at least." Lukas shot him a look and Matthias shrugged, grinning unapologetically. "Sorry, but you can't manufacture the truth, sweetheart." Lukas sighed.

"It was pointlessly destructive and harmful to both sides equally." He argued, setting his tea on the side-table. "And I am not anyone's sweetheart, thank you very much." Matthias shrugged gently, expression warm. Lukas felt his cheeks burn. He had admitted to the other man that he was the cause behind the tsunami that had inundated most of Jostenberg on the 28th, which hadn't seemed to surprise Matthias too much. The blond hadn't offered any criticism, just expressing that he was glad Lukas was okay before lulling him back to sleep again.

All of the injured soldiers, and anyone who had experienced the tsunami, really, had been withdrawn from Jostenberg and divided between three separate nearby rebel camps. Lukas, Matthias and the rest of squad E – including a very exuberant Ros that they had happily reunited with after the battle – had been sent to Drøden. It was about sixty kilometres from Jostenberg, which meant that they normally got news from the front very quickly. In the last few days, as Lukas and Ros had been relegated to the medical ward, they had received consistent updates.

The battle to take the city hadn't been easy, but the tsunami had actually had some good effects. First and foremost, in had devastated the Union forces, who were all completely unprepared for such an event. The locals of the city, however, weren't unused to severe storms and the rare tsunami. They'd been drilled their whole lives about what to do in case one or the other hit. They had jumped into action the minute they'd spotted the water cascading over the wall, and saved a lot of rebel lives in the process. By the time reinforcements had shown up for the rebel side, they had outnumbered the Unionists almost two to one.

From there, victory had been swiftly captured over the last three days. Lukas was glad to hear that the rebels had a city, of course, but he wished that it hadn't come at the expense of such a disaster. The tsunami had steamrolled its way over eight kilometres of city and taken the lives of almost 2,000 people, soldiers and civilians included. The weight of those lives was resting heavily on Lukas' heart, as much as Matthias tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault.

"Lukas, we've talked about you blaming yourself for things which you shouldn't." Matthias said softly, his hand resting on Lukas' wrist. Lukas fought the abrupt and ridiculous urge to turn his palm upwards, take Matthias' hand and intertwine their fingers. He sighed.

"I just…" he trailed off. One of Matthias' hands shifted to rest on his upper back, rubbing gently. Lukas couldn't stop himself from leaning back into the ministrations slightly. He sighed. "I know. It's hard to not think about it, though." Matthias shrugged.

"Then direct your thoughts elsewhere." The blond's grin turned mischievous. "For example, I have heard more than one rumour about an alcohol stockpile that the rebels are building up in the case of a victory so we could party our asses off." Lukas snorted softly, shaking his head in amusement. "And if that isn't your scene, well, you can always think about how great it is that you're gonna be out of here in two hours." Lukas smiled. It had been welcome news, to hear about his imminent discharge. "In addition to that," Matthias said, continuing, "There are more squads heading here to Drøden today, and I know for a fact that good old Hedda Dal's squad is among them."

That brought a true smile to Lukas' face. It would be wonderful to see Riya again. Matthias grinned at him. "I can go scope things out and see if they're here, already, if you want." Lukas chuckled, nodding to him. Matthias smiled, more softly and sincerely, reaching out to playfully mess with Lukas' hair before turning to go. Lukas gave him the finger with one hand as he neatened up his hair with the other. Matthias winked and walked out of the medical ward cackling, leaving a pleasantly embarrassed and blushing Fynknian behind him.

* * *

Riya stretched her arms up above her head, sighing in relief as the pressure in her back loosened somewhat. She let them drop down with a huff, taking her rifle from Kors and slinging it back across her back. Her squadmate grinned at her.

"I'm really hoping that Drøden has some proper beds." Kors said, voice wistful. "I swear I'm gonna end up with arthritis by the time I'm thirty if I don't sleep on something other than the ground soon." Riya smiled slightly, elbowing him.

"Come on now, what has the ground ever done to you?" Kors cracked a grin at that.

"Oh, nothing much, but I do think my relationship with it has been far too intimate recently." Kors said breezily. "I'm thinking perhaps we should start seeing other people." Riya laughed.

"Alright, alright, that's an analogy taken too far." She chuckled, feeling her spirits rise when she saw the shapes of buildings ahead. "Damn, looks like we're here already."

The last few days had been a blur of activity for Riya and the rest of squad B. They had arrived in Jostenberg as part of the proposed third wave, only to be turned away from the front by a frowning woman who had explained the city had been hit by a shock tsunami. That had been a surprising thing to hear, and Riya honestly hadn't been too sure of what they were going to do. They had ended up joining some of the forces who had gone to the city later, and though they had fought a few Unionists, they had been withdrawn almost as fast as more elite forces were sent in to take the city.

They'd all been gathered up and sent on the march to Drøden Military Camp two days ago, and the long distance had only been tolerable because the vast majority of it was a downhill journey. It had still worn them out, though, and Riya would be lying if she said she share Kors' desire for a real bed. She knew the space at Drøden would be limited, but she didn't care about sharing if it meant getting to lie on a real mattress.

"I would kill for a hot meal right now." Storlie said as she slid up to walk next to Riya. "I mean it. we better be getting fed." Riya grinned as Kors voiced his adamant agreement. She hummed, looking at the buildings they were walking towards.

"I wonder how many of the other guerrilla squads are gonna be here." Riya muttered. Kors and Storlie both looked over at her. She shrugged. "I mean, we did get split three ways, after all. It'll be interesting to see if any of them are here." Kors laughed.

"Nah, you just wanna know if Christensen and Køhler are here." He teased. "What is it, Ri-Ri? Are Storlie and I not good enough company for you?" Riya rolled her eyes and shoved him as he cackled. It was true, she had gotten a lot closer with the people from her squad recently, and to her surprise, Kors had been the person she had probably shared the most about herself with, but she had a special place in her heart reserved just for Lukas and Matthias. She knew Kors was only kidding though. He seemed to grasp how much she cared about her original friends from Blå Ren. Storlie just rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"If I had a pair of friends as pretty as those two, I'd also rather spend time with them over an ugly mug like yours, Kors." Kors made a face at Storlie as Riya shook her head in amusement.

"Believe me, it actually is more for their company that I spend so much time with them." She said, smiling. "Speaking of, I really hope Matthias has the twenty kröen that he definitely owes me."

Kors raised a curious eyebrow. "Why does he owe you money?" Riya grinned.

"Ahh, haven't I told you? When we left Blå Ren, I bet him twenty kröen that he'd be completely infatuated with Lukas by the next time we saw each other. I'm expecting to get paid."

"Wait, those two weren't together?" Storlie said disbelievingly. Kors also looked mildly surprised as Riya laughed.

"Nope. But your reaction is further proof that I'll be twenty kröen richer by the next time I see him, though." She said smugly.

Kors' responding remark to that was cut off when they heard a shout up ahead and realised they were right at the gates of the camp. They all fell silent, watching as the huge gates swung open, and they were escorted inside.

It wasn't as crowded inside the walls as Riya had feared it would be, and she sighed in relief when Hedda, their squad captain, told them that they were welcome to do what they wanted until they could work out their accommodation situation. She was relaxed for approximately thirty seconds, until she felt something very cold and slushy hit the back of her head. She froze in surprise as snow dripped down her hair, and Kors and Storlie also blinked in shock.

"Your reflexes are off!" she heard the shout from behind her, and her irritation melted into delight as she spun around and saw Matthias standing a few metres away, grinning roguishly with his hands stashed in his pockets.

"You piece of shit." Riya said, a grin spreading across her face as she dropped her pack, ran over and jumped up to hug him. Matthias laughed, picking her up with ease and swinging her around before setting her back on her feet. She smacked him on the arm, which only made him laugh more. Riya grinned. She'd forgotten how much of a delight Matthias was to be around. Even Storlie looked amused, and Kors was grinning. Looking over him, she could see a few cuts and bruises.

"…Got knocked around a bit, did you?" she asked. Matthias shrugged, stowing his hands back in his pockets.

"Just a bit. You should see Lukas, honestly. Now _he_ got fucked up." Riya felt a brief stab of concern hit her, but she knew Matthias wouldn't be looking so relaxed and smiling if Lukas was badly hurt. She nodded, then, recalling one of the most important parts of their last conversation, straightened up and raised her eyebrow challengingly.

"Matthias." She said seriously. "As you may recall, last time we spoke, we made a little bet." Matthias' grin shifted, and he groaned as Riya let her serious look fall away and she grinned. "Nuh uh uh, come on. Be honest here. Who won?" there was a moment of silence as they stared one another down before Matthias shook his head, withdrew twenty kröen from his pocket and handed it to her. Riya felt a smile bloom across her face as she triumphantly took the money from his hand.

"I hate you". He said lightly, shaking his head. Riya cackled, pocketing the bill and grinning at him.

"I doubt that." She said happily. "May I just allow myself one singular, gloating 'I fucking told you so'?" Matthias rolled his eyes at her. She shrugged. "Well I am right. You _liiiikkee_ him."

"He's still a piece of shit." Matthias shot back. Riya raised an eyebrow at him, still smiling.

"I'm sure, I'm sure." She said teasingly, gently punching him on the arm when he looked away, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. "Hey, you know I'm kidding, man. For real," she said, "I'm glad you've finally come to your senses. You two would be great together."

"It's still not happening." Matthias said stubbornly. "Believe me when I say that it's a very one-sided affair." Riya cocked her head to the side.

"You sure about that?" she asked simply. From what she had witnessed at Blå Ren, the flirtation and chemistry had very much so been a mutual thing. Matthias was more obvious about it since he had hugged and high-fived Lukas more and more as time went on, but she had also seen how often Lukas' eyes lingered on Matthias. She had pushed them so much because it had seemed so inevitable. Matthias averted his eyes, though she didn't miss the glimmer of hope in them.

"Yeah, well, I guess we'll have to see." The blond said simply. Riya smiled, less teasingly and more genuinely this time. "Are you guys planning to join the fun tonight?"

"Ohh, fun? Of what kind, exactly?" Kors piped up from behind Riya. Matthias grinned.

"It's of the 'large amounts of alcohol and general drunkenness' kind." Kors grinned even more.

"My favourite kind." He declared. Riya rolled her eyes but smiled. She supposed joining in the festivities wouldn't hurt, though she was hardly the type to give herself over to alcohol. She shrugged when Matthias turned to her inquisitively.

"I'll join in, but I don't think I'll partake where that alcohol is concerned." She said. Matthias nodded.

"That's fair enough." He said. Kors and Storlie nodded in agreement. Matthias raised his gaze again. His eyes locked onto someone behind Riya and Kors, and grinned. "What about you? You gonna get smashed?"

"You wish." A familiar, deep voice said behind her. Whirling around, she grinned when she saw Lukas. Matthias wasn't wrong, he did look rather battered; the right side of his face was badly bruised, and his right arm was bandaged. She could also see a stitched-up cut on the side of his head. Shaking her head slightly at him, she darted over and carefully hugged him, making sure not to squeeze too hard.

"You look like shit." Riya commented cheerfully as she pulled away. Lukas huffed out what might have been the shadow of a laugh, and nodded.

"I can't really argue with that assessment." He said simply. Riya smiled at him, a warm feeling taking up residence in her chest as she looked between her friends. It really was amazing to see them again. Lukas glanced past her, towards Matthias, and she felt excitement rise when she saw his expression soften when he looked at the other man. One-sided affair her ass. "I got myself my own room." Matthias made a disbelieving sound.

"For real? That's no fair." He groaned. Lukas rolled his eyes fondly.

"I am still injured, asshat." He said. "If it makes you feel better, there is a couch that you can borrow." Matthias perked up.

"Sounds good to me." He chirped happily. Riya looked between the two and exchanged an exasperated look with Kors. Storlie actually looked dangerously close to laughing. These two were both so oblivious. Shaking her head fondly, Riya turned as she heard Hedda calling for them.

"Damn, looks like we'll have to sort out our own accommodation now." She said, pivoting to face them again. "I'll see you two again tonight?"

Matthias nodded eagerly. "You can count on it." Lukas added, voice warm. Smiling widely at her friends, she followed Kors and Storlie over to their captain, raising a hand in farewell.

* * *

Matthias collapsed on Lukas' bed, happily waving his arms and legs around in imitation of a starfish. Lukas raised an eyebrow at him. Matthias simply grinned.

"What?" he asked cheekily. Lukas sighed, shaking his head as he dumped the pack he had carried up. Matthias had flat-out refused to let the prince carry his things up to the second floor where his room was. Lukas had argued against this, countering that if Matthias carried his things up the stairs, Lukas would carry Matthias' things up. Matthias had won that argument by, in an astonishing feat of simultaneous stupidity and brilliance, stacking everything on his back and staggering up by himself. His entire body had screamed in pain as punishment, but Lukas had only been able to carry up a small bag, so Matthias considered it a win.

"I'm not an invalid, you know." Lukas said primly. Matthias grinned, sitting up and ignoring the twinging in his shoulders.

"I'm well aware, but you're injured and we both know that you shouldn't be doing any heavy lifting with those ribs of yours." Lukas huffed, but didn't seem able to conjure a reply to that. Matthias lay back down on the bed, sighing in bliss. It really was a comfortable bed. Lukas was almost lucky he had gotten so badly injured. He glanced over at the couch, nodding to himself. It looked comfortable enough, and for once seemed to be big enough to actually house all of Matthias' absurdly long legs. Grinning, he sat up properly, yawning.

It had been great to see Riya again, but now that the initial happiness had worn off, a little bit of melancholy had taken its place. He missed his own friends, who were all presumably still stuck back on Nyma. It had been two and a half months since he had last seen his friends, and as unique an experience as Fynkn had been, he was really starting to miss them a lot. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Lukas straightening up and walking over until the prince was right in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Lukas asked. Matthias blinked in surprise.

"I…nothing." He said. He could tell the Fynknian didn't believe the lie for a moment, and he cringed slightly as Lukas shot him a stern look. "How did you know?"

"Because…you looked upset? And you were completely quiet, which almost never happens." Lukas said, moving to sit next to Matthias on the bed. "What's wrong?" Matthias sighed.

"It really is pointless." He murmured. At Lukas' stern look, though, he relented and continued. "I just miss my friends is all. The ones still stuck on Nyma, I mean." Lukas winced in sympathy.

"Ahh, I see." Silence reigned for a moment. "I…can't imagine what that's like." Matthias shrugged.

"Well, it's immaturity, really." He said, trying to play off how much he was bothered. "I mean, you left behind friends on Nyma, too, right?" Lukas gave him a gentle look, placing his hand on Matthias' arm and squeezing slightly.

"Yes, but I haven't known them half as long as you've known your friends." He said. "Don't act like your pain is inconsequential just because someone else might be going through something similar." Matthias sighed, nodding before placing his hand over Lukas'.

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "I just wish the feelings would go away, you know?" Lukas shrugged.

"Feeling is part of being human, as painful as it might be." He murmured. Matthias nodded in agreement, and the silence returned. It wasn't uncomfortable, though. Matthias gently brushed his thumb over the back of Lukas' hand, appreciating the warmth and surprising intimacy of the moment. Lukas hummed gently under his breath. "I might have an idea." He murmured, gently withdrawing his hand from under Matthias'. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes." Matthias nodded, watching as the prince slipped out the door.

Matthias released a sigh the moment the door had swung shut, burying his face in his hands.

The relative calmness that his revelation about his feelings for Lukas had borne had not lasted long. The full gravity of the situation had hit him the next morning. He had feelings for Lukas _fucking_ Bondevik, and the more he had allowed himself to admit that, the more he had realised how strong they really were.

It made certain occurrences make a lot more sense; the constant fluttering in his stomach, the blushing and tripping over words, not to mention how unabashedly he had stared at the prince when they'd gone to the hot spring. What had started out as an innocent realisation of _oh, hey, I like you_ , had spiralled into a maddened haze of panic. He was astonished that Lukas or Faena hadn't noticed yet. He knew that his head certainly had enough conflicting emotions flying around right now to put soap opera stars to shame.

It wasn't as easy as just ignoring them, too. Not when Lukas did considerate shit like that and smiled and gently touched him. Not when the prince shared jokes and stories and sharp, witty anecdotes all so casually. Definitely not when he pushed his white hair back from his forehead haphazardly and gave Matthias one of those shy smiles, completely and utterly unaware of how breathtakingly beautiful he was. It was starting to drive Matthias mad, and it had only been four days since he had made that discovery.

Matthias just wanted to be _with_ him. He wanted things that the prince would and could never offer, and it was making being around him hard at times. Because Matthias wanted to share jokes and spend time together and laugh and quietly walk with him like they did now, but another part of him, growing steadily in its persistence, also wanted to hug him and kiss him and make love to him. Matthias couldn't help but hate what his heart was feeling right now. He had a good friendship with Lukas, and his stupid, complicated feelings were threatening to take that all away. That was the last thing he wanted to happen.

Sighing, Matthias rubbed at his eyes and tried to force the issue out of his head. As if their friendship wasn't a good enough reason to not dare to try anything, he had already mentally composed a list of reasons why trying to woo Lukas was a terrible idea;

 _1\. He was here to protect Lukas, not fuck him. Yao would not be pleased._

 _2\. Lukas was a prince, the heir to an entire planet. Matthias was a criminal. That would not go down well for a lot of good reasons._

 _3\. Lukas was 19 years old. Technically still a teenager. Matthias, in comparison, was 23 years old. That was a little sketchy._

 _4\. Lukas would absolutely not be into it. Matthias would just be wasting everyone's time._

 _5\. They had a war to fight, and getting distracted was definitely not a smart idea._

Given that all in all, he had six reasons which would act as excellent deterrents on their own, he thought that it was pretty clear cut that pursuing Lukas was stupid and pointless. It was better to let the feelings lingering in his chest die and get on with what he had been sent here to do. It pained him to do so, but it was undeniable that it was the best option.

He jumped slightly as the door opened again, Lukas slipping inside with a tablet in his hand. He was smiling triumphantly. Schooling his expression into something a little less despondent, Matthias straightened up, frowning in confusion as Lukas handed the tablet to him, smiling.

"What…" he trailed off. Lukas shot him a wink, as if that didn't almost send him into cardiac arrest, then darted out of the room again.

"Matthhiiiassssss! Pay attention to me!" the familiar voice ringing out from the tablet made his heart race, and he felt his mouth split into a wide grin when he looked down and saw grainy footage of Feliks waving at him. Beaming, he jumped up.

"Feliks!" he said, realising with a shock that Lukas had somehow gotten access to a direct feed communication line to the resistance. Several more faces popped up in the background, and he could hear them squabbling to get into the frame. He saw Feliks grin for a moment before adjusting the device he had, obviously holding it above his head so that more people could fit in the frame. Francis, Gilbert and Tori all jammed their faces into the frame, clamouring with greetings.

Matthias laughed in delight at seeing all of them again, fighting back tears of happiness as he watched Gilbert elbow Francis in the side in an attempt to shuffle closer to the middle. He had missed them all so much.

"It's good to see you again." Feliks said, tone sincere as the Pyndaphian grinned at the camera. "For real, this place is so dull without you." Matthias grinned.

"I can't say the same of here, but that's because I've been getting shot at every other day." He joked. Feliks grinned. Matthias glanced at the background, carefully noting that they were not inside a cell block of any kind. "I see that you've been given a longer leash." Feliks nodded.

"Essentially. Only because of this one, though." Feliks said, swinging an arm playfully around Tori's shoulders and pulling her into the middle with him. "My privileges are all tied to her, believe me." Matthias grinned at them. He didn't need to have any sort of empathy to know that they were together now. It was good to see.

"So has anyone else I know started a relationship or is it just you two?" he asked playfully. Feliks grinned, kissing Tori on the cheek by way of confirmation. Francis snorted, sending a sidelong look at Gilbert.

"Gilbert here is still hopelessly pining over Matthew, sadly." The blond said. Gilbert yelped in indignation as Matthias laughed.

"Francis! I am not!" he said, cheeks going red. Tori rolled her eyes.

"Don't even deny it anymore, Gil. You two obviously like each other, so just take the plunge. Get. That. Dick!" she punctuated each of the last three words with a clap, as Feliks and Francis died laughing in the background. Matthias pressed a hand to his mouth to muffle his own loud laughter. Gilbert's face was bright red and Matthias couldn't help but chuckle as the albino slunk off screen pouting. Shaking his head, Feliks resurfaced looking thoroughly amused. Matthias grinned.

"Tell me everything." He said.

* * *

Matthias ended up talking to his friends for a good two hours, his good mood rising even further when Feliks trekked across the rebel camp so that he could talk to Antonio, Berwald and Louise, who it seemed were still confined. He listened to Tori gush about her lessons and what was happening in the resistance, and to Francis complain about every irritating thing that Arthur Kirkland had done in the last two and a half months.

His cheeks were hurting from smiling so much by the time he heard a voice speaking to his friends, and he had to say farewell. He had been prepared to shut the device off and go find Lukas to find out where to return it to, when a chilling voice spoke.

"Don't leave just yet, Mr Køhler. I have a few things to speak with you about." Matthias sighed, good mood dropping as he lifted the device again and looked at Yao Wang. The guy honestly didn't look so good; his skin was drawn more tightly over his bones than it had been when Matthias had left, and there was a tired, frantic energy in his eyes. Despite himself, Matthias felt a touch of concern for the man rise up inside.

"I see." He said, fiddling with the edge of his shirt. "Such as?" Yao cocked an eyebrow.

"No need to be so abrupt." The man said. "I think you'll consider it good news." They made eye contact. "I heard about what happened at Jostenberg. Quite an event." Matthias nodded. Yao inclined his head. "Was it Lukas?" Matthias sighed, hesitating for a moment before nodding. "I see. Is he injured?"

"Not too severely." Matthias murmured. "Dislocated knee, fractured ribs, a nasty gash to the head, concussion and a bullet wound in one shoulder, but he's recovering well." Yao nodded.

"Not anything too bad." Yao murmured, seemingly to someone off-screen, though Matthias hadn't heard anyone else in the background. "Has he built much rapport with other soldiers on Fynkn?" Matthias nodded.

"I mean, yeah. He's good friends with basically everyone on our squad, and he has friends outside of it, too." Yao nodded.

"I see. That's good to hear." They made eye contact again. "I was going to say, Mr Køhler, that you have been there a while now. Two and a half months." Matthias nodded, unsure of how else to react to the statement. Yao inclined his head slightly. "If you wish, you can return to Nyma, now."

That statement almost stopped Matthias' heart dead in his chest. He stared at the screen and the man displayed on it, stomach churning. Return to Nyma?

He would be with his friends again, and since he had fulfilled his half of the bargain, it also meant that his friends would all be set free. He should be delighted at the mere thought. He should be agreeing without hesitation, and jumping for joy that he could leave the icy planet that he had been stuck on for the last eleven weeks.

But instead, he just felt sick to his stomach. The thought of Lukas here, alone, without anyone to have his back, made bile rise in his throat. Matthias swallowed.

"I, uhh…that's very kind of you." He said carefully, unsure of how to proceed with this conversation. Yao looked at him, and Matthias would have identified the look in his eyes as curiosity if it wasn't so oddly absent. He felt his stomach twist again.

"You seem…unsure." Yao said, eyes trained unsettlingly on him. "Do you not want to come back?"

"It's just…" he trailed off for a moment, "Well, if I were to leave now, I would disrupt my whole squad, you know? They'd need to go and find a new member, which would just be time-consuming." He knew he was rambling on a little, but he didn't care too much. "I mean, I don't want to cause more trouble than necessary." Yao was silent, watching him like a hawk. He squirmed uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"So, you want to stay?" he asked after a long moment. Matthias took a deep breath. He had to choose. Stay on Fynkn with Lukas or reunite with his friends on Nyma?

"Yes." He said. "I want to stay."

Yao was silent for a long moment before nodding.

"Very well. You will stay." Yao glanced somewhere off-screen. "I will need to cut this conversation of ours short, Mr Køhler. Duty calls." Yao stared at him again for a moment. "Take care of yourself, and Lukas of course." Matthias nodded numbly as the video cut off, and he was left staring at a black screen.

He lowered it, biting his lip for a moment before placing it on the side-table and ducking out the door. Night had fallen, and he could distinctly hear the sounds of drunken revelry nearby. He had taken no more than three steps before he heard someone calling his name.

"Matthias! There you are! We were about to come looking for you." He turned and smiled at Riya, who had Kors on one arm and Lukas on the other. Nina and Faena, who appeared to be taking turns swigging from a wine bottle, were staggering along behind them. Riya grinned. "You gonna have some fun with us?" Matthias nodded, smiling more genuinely. He threw Lukas, who was swaying slightly, a curious look.

"Don't tell me he's drunk." He said, his eyes widening in shock as Riya grinned and nodded. "How did that happen?" Riya snorted in amusement.

"He drank a whole bottle of _kivasa_ , unaware that it is in fact an alcoholic drink." She said. Matthias grinned at Lukas, who was frowning at Riya as he clumsily freed himself from her grip.

"'M not tha' drunk." He said, words slurring as he staggered away from her. He almost tripped, and Matthias moved to catch him so he wouldn't faceplant into the snow.

"Sure, Lukas, sure." He murmured, smiling at the Fynknian. The prince shook his head, then grabbed Matthias' hands.

"Come with us." He said, eyes lighting up in excitement. Matthias' heart absolutely melted.

"Alright, I'll come and party with all of you." He said softly. Lukas took his hands properly, intertwining their fingers as he dragged him towards one building which appeared to be the source of most of the noise.

"You better." Lukas looked over his shoulder at him. "Dance with me?"

Matthias smiled, feeling the warmth in his chest multiply tenfold. "Now that's an offer I can't refuse."

* * *

 _The Im Estate,  
Lesser Manju, Xexei,  
4th Septombre_

"See, when conjugating _varses_ , you need to follow the fourth rule, because it's a subtype irregular verb, rather than a primary form regular verb like _miros_."

Ji-Ho was staring blankly at him, and Lovino sighed a little. He was doing his best, but he had never been cut out to be a teacher, and that had become painfully clear in the last week and a half.

His decision to help Ji-Ho with his Jhobrasian had snowballed into him somehow tutoring the guy whenever there was a spare moment. Rosalinde had been delighted that he was fluent in the language and had such a solid grasp on verb conjugation. The entire staff hated watching Ji-Ho get thrown around like he did, so hearing that there was a possible solution was greatly exciting to them all. Lovino had been afraid that Kyeng would discover what he was doing and punish him somehow, but Ji-Ho had begged him to lend him his aid.

"I'll make sure I take the fall, if anything happens." The Xeir man had declared. "Please, please help me, Luciano." Lovino had tried to abstain from giving into the other's persuasion, but he had eventually caved. He couldn't help it; years of being treated in a similar, if much less violent, way, was making him sympathetic. He wanted to stop the violence he had witnessed, even though he knew his intervention was hardly going to stop Kyeng from continuing to abuse his own family.

Ji-Ho was a diligent student, though, and a very considerate man. He always requested for food to be brought up when Lovino was teaching him so that he didn't get too hungry, and Ji-Ho had also kindly asked Rosalinde to decrease his workload. When they were able to work together, he listened carefully and did his best, even when linguistics clearly wasn't an area of strength for him. He took on board every last piece of advice that Lovino gave him, and always tried to apply it to his studies as best as he could.

He never drilled Lovino if he got something wrong, or insulted him or called him a poor teacher. The man seemed to have it drilled into him that any mistake he made was solely his own fault, even though Lovino knew his own poor communication skills probably weren't helping the guy's case.

When they finished for the day, though, Ji-Ho didn't hurl him out of his chambers. He tended to close his books and spin around on his chair, and they would just talk. It was light and pleasant, and Lovino had learned a lot about Kyeng Im, in addition to Ji-Ho's life as a whole. He had deigned to share some details about Syhvva, himself, which had fascinated Ji-Ho. On the whole, he couldn't understand why Kyeng was so determined to hurt his son. Ji-Ho, by Lovino's observation, was a considerate, intelligent, talented and capable young man. Kyeng should have been proud to have even ended up with a son that truly wanted to continue the family business, rather than censuring him at every opportunity.

Ji-Ho wasn't easily offended, which made Lovino's tendency to speak freely and swear on a regular basis a lot easier to deal with. He seemed to silently agree with every sharp or degrading comment that Lovino made about his father, and Lovino's colourful language only seemed to make him smile.

All in all, Lovino's promotion from floor-sweeper to linguistics teacher had made his life a lot more pleasant in the last few weeks. He found himself sleeping more easily each night, and getting to spent time with Ji-Ho was an eye-opening experience.

The guy was banned with having any sort of friendships or romantic relationships, so Lovino understood that part of his habit in talking to him was out of a hunger for interaction with someone who wasn't his family, but he enjoyed it regardless. The whole rule concerning relationships made no sense to Lovino.

No romantic relationships, well, he supposed that would be understandable; Kyeng wanted his children to focus on their studies, rather than get distracted by any potential boyfriends or girlfriends. That was understandable to an extent, though Lovino thought the rule against simple friendships was a step too far. Really, all it was doing was isolating Ji-Ho and Yong Soo and stopping them from forming social skills they otherwise would have learned. Ji-Ho's lack of social skills mostly led to him being quiet and reserved, whereas in Yong Soo's case, the teen compensated by being loud and overly energetic. It was sad to see at times.

Lovino straightened up, folding his arms as he wondered how to best explain this to the other man. He knew his abrasive temperament and short temper were hardly helping the guy out. Sighing, he shook his head.

"Why don't we take a break for a minute?" he murmured. Ji-Ho nodded, eyes cast downwards.

"Sorry." The other man murmured. Lovino frowned at him.

"The fuck are you apologising for? You haven't done shit." He said.

"Exactly." Ji-Ho murmured. "I'm hopeless at this. I'm just wasting your time." Lovino shook his head, moving over to the man and bending down a little so their eyes were level.

"Listen up fuckface, people have different areas of expertise, yeah? You're clearly wired for maths and sciences and the like, and the fact that this isn't coming as easily is not your fault. The only person at fault here is your scumbag father who thinks you should be perfect at everything. Don't fucking apologise for shit that isn't your fault." Ji-Ho was staring at him, eyes wide. Lovino cursed internally, wondering if he had taken it too far. There was a beat of silence before Ji-Ho made a small, strangled noise in the back of his throat, and abruptly wrapped his hands around Lovino in a hug.

Lovino, unused to such treatment from anyone but Feliciano and Lili, went rigid for a moment before he hesitantly returned the gesture, wrapping his arms around Ji-Ho's shoulders. One other thing he had ascertained about the brothers; they were touch-starved as all hell. Kyeng seemed to think that letting his wife hug their sons would encourage them to go out and get laid, or something. Lovino didn't understand it.

He could practically feel Ji-Ho's reluctance to let go even as he loosened his grip on Lovino and stepped away, looking embarrassed.

"Sor-" Lovino reached out and pressed his hand to Ji-Ho's mouth, cutting his apology off mid-word.

"What did I say?" he asked gently. Ji-Ho nodded softly, and Lovino released his hold, nodding to the chair again. "Come on, I'm drilling this into your head no matter how long it takes."

* * *

 _East End; "The Glamour District"  
Nonpo-Sunhae, Xexei,  
5th Septombre_

"Saints, that is a glamourous building." Emilia muttered as she peered out of the half-open window shutters, shaking her head slightly as her eyes looked over the garish façade of the Ikcheok Casino. The small safehouse they had set up shop in was about five blocks away from it, close enough that they could keep an eye, but also far away enough that any sort of exclusion zone set up to catch a runaway slave would, most likely, exclude them.

"This is the Glamour District for a reason." Elizabeta reasoned, also making a face. "But, yeah, that is a ridiculous façade. Saints, the people on this planet really do have too much wealth to reasonably spend, don't they?" Emilia shook her head in disbelief as she pried her eyes away from the window. She, Elizabeta and Alfred had been hard at work determining how best to sneak Feliks, Mei and Leon into the casino's main parlour. Since the other four were all going to be sneaking in via the roof, they didn't need to blend in with the general population, but those actually looking for the slave Linh – especially Feliks – needed to blend in as well as possible.

Elizabeta had spent the last two days out on the streets near the casino, observing the behaviour and attire of the people who entered. She had recorded what sort of makeup, fabrics and styles seemed to be the most popular, as well as what indicated a rank of a certain sort. She had also taken note of what clothing slaves tended to wear.

Emilia had devoted her time to researching the behaviours, language and other airs employed by the wealthy patrons of the casino. She had written up an extensive list for Feliks about how to act, what to do and what to say in basically every situation that had come up. It wasn't going to be easy, but Feliks was a remarkably good actor, so she had faith he could pull it off.

Alfred, as the least conspicuous of the three of them, had been relegated the role of getting every last supply they needed. He had hunted down stores that sold all number of things so that they could dress Feliks, Mei and Leon to the nines and get them in undetected.

One thing Emilia had learned was that Xexei's casino class had some strange styles, and anything but close adherence to those styles generally resulted in social dismissal. It was beyond bizarre, and Emilia was happier than ever that Fynknians didn't care about pointless shit like that. As long as it was warm, people in Oslaholm had always been satisfied, no matter what their clothes actually looked like.

The mission to rescue Linh was set for the 8th, and Emilia was actually fairly confident in the plan they had. It hurt her, to know that Leon and Mei were going under the guise of slaves again, but she knew that of everyone, they would play those roles the best. She sighed. One part of this she was worried about was the decision to have Francis and Arthur working together. She didn't know either of them very well, but she knew that they didn't get along well. The pair seemed prone to start arguing at the smallest provocation, and that could spell disaster for their slave if they chose to start a spat while inside the casino.

Emilia shook her head, sighing. The most she could do was hope that they would act somewhat maturely while inside, and save their petty arguments for later. She had heard that Francis was especially passionate when it came to fucking with the slave industry, so she could only pray that he would devote his energy towards helping this 'Linh' rather than fighting with a Chalydrantis-ridden pirate.

Emilia had to admit she was surprised when she had been chosen to come along, even if it was just as a support unit. Yao had been extra cautious with her since Lukas was on Fynkn, and as happy as she was to be lending a hand and actually getting involved rather than just training with Ali, it was making her worried. Yao was clearly unstable, and though she hadn't seen him recently, she knew that whatever was plaguing him was hardly going to vanish overnight.

Biting her lip, Emilia surveyed the notes she had been compiling for the mission. She needed to keep her focus on her current task. The higher-ups at the resistance were smart, and judging by what she had heard and seen in the last week, Octavia and Ayshe seemed to be trying to handle the situation with Yao. She had her own responsibilities to attend to.

Sighing, she double-checked the measurements she and Elizabeta had gotten off Feliks. This mission was going to be a doozy, she knew that already, and she couldn't afford to get distracted. A young woman's freedom depended on it.


	38. Nightlife and Nymphomania

**Okay, thank you all so so so much for your response to the last chapter! I'm very glad that you all enjoyed it so much! (=^-ω-^=)**

 **Fair warning, the next chapter probably won't be appearing for the next two weeks. I'm about to head into the last few weeks of uni, and then three weeks of exams, so yeah. Add that to the fact that the next chapter is sadly only half-done, and yeah, you have a recipe for delayed updates. Sorry guys!**

 **RECAP:**  
 **\- Lukas and Matthias got the news that Jostenberg was taken by the rebels, flirted the living shit out of each other and reunited with Riya. Matthias got to speak with his friends via a fancy IPad, and also decided to stay with Lukas on Fynkn rather than return to Nyma. Drunken shenanigans ensued.**  
 **\- Lovino continued to give Ji-Ho help on his study, and the two have managed to grow very close already ;))))**  
 **\- Emilia, Alfred and Elizabeta prepared to start the mission to free the slave on Xexei. The others are currently en route.**

 **WARNINGS:**  
 **\- Uhhh pretty blatant lead-up to fucking, and lots of mentions of sex and other suggestive content**  
 **\- Brief sexual harassment**  
 **\- Attempted and referenced child rape/sexual abuse**  
 **\- A murder with a gun**

 **Pls review, and I hope y'all enjoy! :D**

* * *

 _The Im Estate,  
Lesser Manju, Xexei,  
7th Septombre_

Lovino had been convinced that Kyeng's rules were ridiculous and hypocritical, but this was taking things to a whole other level.

Kyeng had a habit of going out at night to partake in the casinos in the city centres, and though from what Lovino had heard, the man did far more than just gamble, he had kept his business in the city until now. Any of the more unsavoury vices he partook in had stayed distant from his rigid household and authoritarian rules.

Tonight, however, whether due to alcohol or other drugs coursing through his system, Kyeng had chosen to bring his business. And by 'business', he meant a pair of giggling, drunken prostitutes that the man had clearly loaned for the night. Lovino was just glad that Ha-yoon was out, spending time with a friend of hers over in Greater Manju for the next few weeks. As forced as their marriage was, it was still a marriage, and Ha-yoon didn't deserve to see her husband violating their marital vows right in front of her face.

Lovino was sickened enough, and he had only borne witness to a small amount of it. As the assigned door-bearer for the night, he had swung the door open only to hurriedly step back as Kyeng stumbled inside with the girls behind him. As if that weren't shocking enough in of itself, Kyeng's eyes had shortly thereafter landed on Lovino, and he had been able to do nothing as Kyeng had stepped over to him and run his hands up and down his body lasciviously, leering all the while.

The worst part was that Lovino had just frozen, even as Kyeng had grabbed his hands and dragged them over to rest on his groin as the man grinned and shifted his hips forward. Lovino had snapped back to himself a moment later and yanked his entire body backwards, away from the disgusting man, but Kyeng had just laughed, seized a girl in each hand and dragged them upstairs.

Lovino had been left nauseated and shocked and equally disgusted that he had let the man do that to him in the first place. He knew that Kyeng was attracted to him, and he shouldn't have just sat by and let that happen. He was the crown prince of _fucking_ _Syhvva_ , not some poor sex slave with no choice but to put their head down, close their mouth and let people have their way with their body. He hadn't slept too well that night, and Rosalinde must have realised something had happened, because she ensured to give him only kitchen duties for the next three days, so as to keep him away from the predatory Kyeng.

Lovino had been expecting it to be a one-time thing, though, the bringing home of prostitutes, but now that Kyeng seemed to be aware that his wife wasn't home and his servants had no power to stop him, he had brought home numerous people. Lovino hadn't seem much of the brothers for the last few days, but when he next saw Ji-Ho, he could tell that the other man was furious.

"He goes on and on about how we shouldn't have any relationships so we can stay focussed, yet he drinks and gambles and whores until he can't do it anymore." Ji-Ho muttered harshly one afternoon as Lovino had been helping him brush up his adjectives. "He's a hypocrite through and through." Lovino had just nodded silently and continued with their lesson, but Ji-Ho's irritation at the subject didn't seem to diminish over time.

It all came to a head one afternoon, right as Kyeng marched out the door, likely not to be seen until early the next morning, and Ji-Ho snapped in anger.

"I'm not allowed any relationships with people who aren't my family, but he goes and does that?" Ji-Ho said, voice raw with fury and pent-up frustration. "He's cheating on my mother when she has done nothing but try and be a good partner all these years, no matter how badly he's treated her." The Xeir man put his head in his hands as Lovino watched, the only witness to an emotional breakdown. "I'm not allowed to make friends, I'm not allowed to have sex…I'm not even allowed to kiss anyone." Lovino had never heard such a weary, hopeless statement in his life.

Maybe that was why he did it, or perhaps it was because of his own anger towards Kyeng, and his burning desire to stick it to him. Maybe it was simply because he actually did get along with Ji-Ho, and he was a good person. Regardless of the reason, the outcome was the same; Lovino got to his feet, marched over to Ji-Ho, yanked his hands away from his face and kissed him.

Ji-Ho stiffened almost immediately, not seeming to know how to react to this development. The moment of tension was eased, however, when the other man shifted, and clumsily tried to move his lips against Lovino's. It was clear that the man really never had been kissed, but it didn't bother Lovino too much. He pulled away after a moment, with Ji-Ho gawking at him in shock.

"If your father's hypocritical and arbitrary rules piss you off, then break them, asshole." Lovino said, his hands fisted in the lapels of Ji-Ho's shirt. "You're your own person, okay, and you should be standing up to that piece of shit. What is he going to do to you that he hasn't done already, huh?" Ji-Ho actually didn't seem to have a response to that, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he seemed to give up. Lovino cocked his head to the side and looked into his eyes. "Tell me, what do you want?"

Ji-Ho was silent, looking unsure and overwhelmed. Lovino leaned in and kissed him again. He felt the man's grip on him tighten marginally. "Well?" he murmured as they separated. "There must be something." When he leaned in again, Ji-Ho met him halfway, and Lovino slid his tongue into the other man's mouth, which quickly warranted a reaction. Pressed together as they were, Lovino could feel how he was affecting the other. "Tell me."

"I…" Ji-Ho trailed off, looking uncertain. Lovino pressed his lips to the other man's jaw, and Ji-Ho shuddered against him. "I want to…"

"You want to fuck me." Lovino murmured as he slid his hands onto Ji-Ho's belt and pulled his hips forwards so that they were flush together. He could feel the erection pressed against his thigh, and the rapid-fire beating of Ji-Ho's heart. "Right? That's what you want?" Ji-Ho hesitated, staring at Lovino uncertainly. Lovino tilted his head up, so that he was staring into the other's eyes. "If you want to fuck me, then fuck me. It's as easy as that."

Ji-Ho averted his eyes, face flushed. "I don't even know how to…" he trailed off, but the message was clear. Lovino raked his eyes over his face. The other man really was quite handsome.

"Don't worry," he murmured, breath skimming across Ji-Ho's neck, "I'll show you. I'll show you everything." There was a moment of silence as they stood there, bodies pressed together, before Ji-Ho cleared his throat, looked Lovino dead in the eye, and nodded.

Lovino took great joy in dragging Ji-Ho over to his bed, and even greater joy in what came after that.

* * *

 _The Glamour District,  
Nonpo-Sunhae, Xexei,  
8th Septombre_

"Have you got everything?" Elizabeta asked as Tori checked over the supplies that she had both stashed on her belt and concealed in the nifty hidden pockets of her coat. The Daernic girl nodded and grinned comfortingly at her as Elizabeta felt herself relax slightly. Their mission was set to commence extremely soon, and Liz couldn't help the anxiety building up inside her.

The group set to examine the file archives to get Linh's bondage papers were leaving three hours in advance so that they would have enough time to find the files themselves. Once Feliks, Mei and Leon located the slave and extracted her from the casino, their time would be limited. They had waited as long as possible in order to give Tori, Kari, Arthur and Francis the benefit of night-time darkness to get inside the casino, but they couldn't delay any longer. Feliks, Mei and Leon had to enter the party during peak time to avoid suspicion as much as possible.

That meant that Elizabeta, Emilia and Alfred had the next three hours to make the trio as believable as possible. They needed to make Feliks look like a smarmy upper-class rich kid and Mei and Leon like pampered but tasteful sex slaves. Elizabeta sighed as she lifted a hand to wave in farewell to the first group. She received a few waves in return – and a pair of rolled eyed from Arthur – before they exited and shut the door behind them.

Straightening up, Elizabeta shifted into business mode. Emilia and Alfred were going to be working on Mei and Leon while Liz, who had done the most study on the outfits and fashion of people in Nonpo-Sunhae, had to make Feliks up by herself. The man in question was seated on a lounge, looking pensive. Elizabeta sighed, then clapped her hands together.

"Feliks, come on. We have a lot to do before you go anywhere near that casino." The bounty hunter made a face but stood, following her into the next room. Elizabeta closed the door behind him. She had explicitly stated to Alfred and Emilia that, to make Feliks as convincing as possible, that she would be appropriating the bathroom and one of the bedrooms in the apartment. Liz had enjoyed the fear on Feliks' face when she had said that just a little too much, but it was no exaggeration. Three hours to transform a grungy bounty hunter into a member of high society. She placed her hands on her hips and nodded to herself, determination flooding through her body. She could do this.

"So, what first?" Feliks asked. Liz turned, surveying the countless things she had laid out to transform him.

"First of all, shower. Scrub like you've never scrubbed before, and wash your hair." She said, moving to select a tube of white paste. "And make it quick." Feliks didn't bother arguing, simply moving to the bathroom and shutting the door. Liz heard the shower turn on a minute later, and assembled the items she would need first.

It had been fascinating to see how people here dressed and acted, and though Feliks had been appropriately schooled in his behaviour by Emilia, his look was rather far off.

The first thing Elizabeta had noticed about the Ikcheok Casino was that the most beautiful seemed to get in much easier. With that in mind, she had assembled an idea of what a truly beautiful person on Xexei, or at least in this part of Xexei, was.

First and foremost, pale and unmarked skin seemed to be in fashion. Feliks was pale, thankfully, with not much of an ability to tan, and the scars he did have could easily be covered by clothing, save a nasty one on his neck. Another major thing here was fair hair. Feliks was already blond, yes, but she knew that, if they wanted him and the others to get in as easily as possible, some adjustments would have to be made.

After maybe ten minutes, Feliks emerged from the shower, hair dripping with water. Liz allowed him to quickly dry the rest of his body off, but refusing to let him touch his hair, before grabbing him by the shoulder and steering him over to a chair. Picking up her tube of white paste, she squeezed a very generous amount into her hand and started to lather his hair with it.

"May I ask what you're doing?" he asked.

"Fair hair is considered extremely attractive here. Your hair is light already, yes, but we want to be sure. This is a bleaching product. Your hair will probably look something like corn silk when I'm done." She didn't know if Feliks made a face, but she could imagine him pulling one easily enough. Once his hair was absolutely drenched in the thick paste, she picked up a special cap and covered his head, ensuring that the paste didn't leech off before it could do it's job.

Liz stood in front of him, surveying him and nodding. "Okay, I think this will actually work." Feliks raised an eyebrow.

"And why is that?" he asked. Liz sighed.

"Beauty is valued here, and I found, in the last few days, that one of the things that the people of Nonpo-Sunhae find the most beautiful is androgyny. The more gender-neutral, the better. Luckily for this mission, you're actually very androgynous already." As she said it, she realised how true it was. With his long hair, slender frame and proud but fine features, Feliks already blurred the line between each traditional gender norm. Feliks shrugged.

"I've been told as much." He said simply. "So, what do you have in mind?" Liz bit her lip, suppressing a grin.

"Well, it won't be too pleasant for you, but it'll make you more convincing." She said, trailing off as the timer she had set on her phone went off. "Alright, we can get that dye out now."

Liz spent the next six minutes or so pushing Feliks' head over the sink as she scrubbed vigorously at his hair. It was a rich, solid corn silk colour indeed, and Feliks didn't look too delighted about that when she let him surface, but Elizabeta allowed no time for complaints as she dragged him out again, towelling his hair dry before dragging it back with a rubber band.

She approached her stack, grinning slightly at what was next. "Have you eaten much today?" she inquired. Feliks raised an eyebrow.

"…Not that much. Why?" Elizabeta nodded, grinning as she held up the item of clothing that she was going to be forcing him into next. Feliks' eyes widened.

"I thought you said I looked pretty androgynous already!" he protested as Elizabeta dragged him to his feet.

"You do, but we don't want anyone to get even a little suspicious, now do we?" she said. "Come on, it's only a corset."

"It looks like a death-trap." Feliks grumbled, before yielding and allowing her to slip it on him. She nodded, gripping the laces and grinning.

"Now for the fun part. You might want to hold onto that side table there." Grimacing, Feliks obeyed. Elizabeta yanked the laces tightly, pulling them in as much as possible.

"Ow! Fuck, Liz, are you trying to cut off my blood supply?" Feliks wheezed, face twisted in discomfort. She chuckled.

"Sorry, but it does need to be tight. Now hush." After a good ten minutes of yanking and swearing and huffing, Elizabeta stepped back, nodding at him. "Good. I must say, you have a very narrow waist."

"Well I certainly do _now_." Feliks retorted, frowning. "I feel like this thing is slowly asphyxiating me."

"That means it's tight enough to appeal to the Xeir masses." Elizabeta said simply. "Come on, time for your hair. You should probably practice sitting down anyway."

That suggestion resulted in more swearing and some legitimately fluttery breaths from Feliks, but he eventually got the hang of it as Elizabeta dried his hair completely and combed it until it was as smooth as silk. She whipped out a pair of scissors and neatened up the ends of his hair, ensuring it was a straight line all the way across. After brushing off his shoulders for him, she approached her clothing pile.

"You should be grateful that I got a full-length outfit for you." She said. "Otherwise, you'd be waxing your legs right now." Feliks made a face at that idea as she picked up the fancy white shirt she had gotten. It was made of silk, pure white and long-sleeved, with a ruffle at the neck pinned in place by a ruby brooch. They had well and truly used up the extensive budget that the resistance had provided for this mission, and the vast majority of that had been spent on clothes.

This shirt was a strange one because it was supposed to be done up at the back with small fabric buttons. Elizabeta, noting the city's preference for the petite, had also gotten one about two sizes too small for Feliks. Thankfully, with his waist tightly cinched in, it now fit him perfectly. She then handed him the pants she had gotten; they were long, pure white and tailored to fit. They clung to his legs but managed to do so in a rather flattering way. Elizabeta didn't understand a lot of Xeir fashion, but she could appreciate the beauty in most of their clothes.

Next came a black vest, like the kind normally a part of a three-piece suit. This was also done up at the back, and was just as form-fitting as the shirt. Feliks was well and truly locked into this outfit. This vest, as well as the coat she had gotten to go over the whole ensemble, had been specially tailored to come in at the waist and flare out over the hips. In short; it had been tailored for a woman.

The coat was a shade of rich, coal black, with gold embellishments. It was long, reaching to about the back of Feliks' knees, with gold thread trim. It had a collar designed to lie flat, and three gold chains reaching across the front rather than buttons to hold it shut. The sleeves were full-length, and the ends were tastefully upturned. Wearing it, Feliks rather looked like some sort of kindred earl, about to attend a fancy gala.

The ensemble was completed with thigh-high black boots, with gold detailing on them so as to match the coat, and black gloves. Elizabeta nudged small ruby earrings into the piercings in Feliks' ears that she had done two days ago, and then dragged him into a chair to put makeup on him.

Given how smooth his skin was, her job was relatively easy in that regard, other than a little contouring. She mostly focused on drawing attention to his eyes. Luckily for Feliks, Xeir people also found green eyes beautiful. After giving him eyeliner and laying mascara and eyeshadow on as tastefully as she knew how, she finished the look by giving him lipstick, in a shade of dark red, and handed him a black cane, the kind owned by most slave owners to both indicate their status and teach their charges a lesson if necessary. As soon as he had slipped his numerous knives and other small weapons up his sleeves and into his boots, he was ready.

Looking him up and down, Elizabeta couldn't help but grin. If she had never met him before, she honestly would have been hard pressed to say if he was biologically male or female, which meant that she had done her job right.

"Do a spin." She said, smiling. Feliks rolled his eyes but complied. He looked female from his frame alone, with his cinched-in waist and surprisingly shapely hips, but his face and shoulders led one to question whether he was male. "Take a look." Liz said, gesturing to the mirror. Looking curious, Feliks stepped closer and blinked in surprise, staring at himself for a moment in shock.

"Nice job." He said, sounding legitimately impressed. Liz grinned.

"Now, remember, the minute you step out of this room, you are Sasha Krasinsky, young and exorbitantly wealthy. You're from Pyndaph and attending the casino's low charge night to show off your new slaves, which are Mei and Leon, whose names…?"

"Don't matter. Because why in the system would I bother giving them names? They're my property and nothing more." Feliks' demeanour changed in a second, his back straightening as the last vestiges of discomfort faded and he gave her a sharp look, expression filled with muted apathy and mild disgust. Elizabeta shivered slightly. 'Good actor' was an understatement.

"Exactly." She said, eyes flickering over to the clock. They had forty minutes before they absolutely had to be inside the casino. Peak time had started about a half hour ago. "I'll check if Mei and Leon are ready yet."

Stepping out of the room, she grinned when she saw Mei and Leon. Though Emilia and Alfred had seemed nervous about making them look like slaves again, they had done a marvellous job. Mei was dressed in a simple, bright gold flapper-style dress, with black metal bands on her biceps and down her arms. Her short hair had been styled back and decorated with white flowers. Her eyes had been loaded with the dark eyeliner, thick eyeshadow and generally sexual makeup associated with sex slaves. Her feet were clothed in simple but stylish black sandals.

Leon, being the older of the two, had been given a slightly more 'mature' look. He had a white silk shirt with a low-cut front that rather made him resemble old sea-pirates from storybooks. The sleeves of the shirt were three-quarters in length, and he also had a gold vest on, as well as fitted black pants and black boots. He had been decorated with rubies, too, and Elizabeta could see red eyeshadow that was being used to enhance the effect.

It sent a chill down her spine. They looked every bit the glamourous but subdued slaves they were meant to be. She felt her stomach twist uncomfortably. They _had_ been slaves, that was something she had to keep in mind. They knew the drill.

"You've really made these two look rather convincing." She said, trying to inject positivity into her voice. Emilia smiled at her.

"Thanks. How's Feliks coming along?" Liz nodded, her smile becoming a bit more genuine.

"Essentially perfect, not to toot my own horn." She said. "Are you guys ready to go?" Mei and Leon both nodded, getting to their feet.

"For real, I think I'm going to pass out before this night is over, Liz." Feliks said as he slipped out of the room. Liz allowed herself a pleased grin as Emilia, Alfred, Mei and Leon gawked at Feliks. She shrugged.

"Sorry about that." She said. "Mei, Leon, if he faints, you should probably just cut the clothes off him." The pair nodded, looking a little surprised still. Liz raised an eyebrow at Emilia and Alfred. "Did I do a good job?"

Emilia nodded, grinning, as Alfred also nodded, much more slowly.

"Yeah, you did." He said, squinting at Feliks. "Not gonna lie, dude, I am very attracted to you right now."

"Neat." Feliks deadpanned before turning to Mei and Leon. "Shall we?" the pair nodded, and, exchanging one last look with Emilia and Elizabeta, slipped out the door, Alfred on their heels. He was going to be the resident chauffeur tonight, so he would get to witness action up close and personal. Elizabeta murmured a low 'good luck' to them as they left.

She really hoped their disguises would hold up.

"Fuck, this place is huge." Tori sighed as she moved onto yet _another_ box of files, pulling the lid off and digging through, searching for the identification number that Barkhado Dirie had supplied them with. Tori basically had it printed on her brain at his point; 2908471.

She had known it would be a long search, but they had been here for two hours already, and no-one had found anything yet. The room they had all of the records stored in was massive, a good hundred metres long and stacked high with boxes. They had been looking as fast as possible, but so far, their searching had yielded nothing.

Her thoughts strayed towards Feliks. He, Mei and Leon were conducting the more dangerous part of the mission by moving through the casino's main parlour to find the slave herself. They had a hard task ahead of them, not least because they needed to look and act exactly how the rest of the upper-class people in there would be acting. Feliks was a good actor, and that was the only reason she wasn't panicking more on his behalf right now.

Tori's eyes strayed over to Francis. The blond had looked sullen and uncomfortable ever since they had slipped into the casino via the roof. She had initially put it down to him being forced to work with Arthur, who he was not quiet about his dislike for, but the two were nowhere near one another and Francis still looked oddly upset. She desperately wanted to ask what was bothering him so much, but she also didn't want to pry.

Sighing, she glanced over to Arthur. Due to his history in working for slave drivers, the pirate knew a lot about Xeir filing systems. He had been helping them narrow their search area all night, and no sooner had the thought entered her head, he lifted his gaze, shutting the box he was looking through and marching over.

"This is the wait staff section. If I remember right, we need to move more down this way. That's how they organise things." Tori and Kari simply nodded, but Francis didn't seem as glad that their search area had shrunk, slamming the box he was holding back onto its shelf and stalking past them all, in the direction Arthur had mentioned. Tori saw Arthur flinch as he moved past, and felt a stab of pity for the pirate.

True, he and Francis had had a bad falling out, but Francis seemed to be the only one who held any animosity anymore, which was unusual given that he had been given Arthur's side of the story. If anything, Tori would have expected Arthur to be the one continuing the feud since, as far as she knew, none of them understood why Francis was so angry about the whole thing. He probably had a good reason, yes, since he didn't seem to be the type to hold onto a grudge without good cause, but Tori just wished she knew what it was.

She supposed it really wasn't her business, but from what Feliks had told her, it seemed like they'd had a good friendship at one point in time. She didn't understand how a pair of people could go from a close friendship to hating one another. There was a good five years where they didn't know about what had happened between the two meeting and the interactions that Tori had first witnessed on Garsinon Anchorage all those months ago. Her main hope was that their feud, and Francis' tense air tonight, wouldn't tank this mission entirely.

She exchanged a look with Kari as Arthur, clenching his jaw, followed Francis.

"Those two look about ready to blow, don't they?" the Fynknian murmured to her. Tori watched them both. Francis looked angry, yes, but when she looked at Arthur…

His expression was a careful mask of apathy and distaste, but his eyes were full of sorrow. She shook her head.

"No. Francis is ready to blow up, and Arthur's ready to get burned." She muttered. Kari hummed quietly.

"They need to work through their shit, whatever it is." She murmured. "If they fuck this mission up, then forget them fighting each other, _I'll_ kill them first."

Tori just nodded, eyes lingering on Arthur's sad eyes as she turned back to the shelves and continued to search.

* * *

Feliks stepped out of the car, making the gesture purposefully graceful even as his torso screamed in pain. He said something absently dismissive to Alfred as Mei and Leon also clambered out behind him, heads bowed, and shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Their very postures indicated deference and submission. It made Feliks a little uncomfortable, but he shoved the feelings down, fully stepping into the guise of Sasha Krasinsky.

He let his expression shift into something more closely resembling boredom as he approached the doors, Mei and Leon flanking him faithfully. The casino really was ugly; there was so much garish wealth but so little class or order to it. Feliks felt his lip curl as he climbed the few stairs to the entrance. The guards standing at the doors didn't seem to be too engrossed in their jobs. Feliks readied himself as he marched over to them, praying that Elizabeta's work wouldn't go unappreciated.

"Are you going to open these doors or leave me outside all night?" he asked, pitching his voice upwards to complete his androgyny and layering his tone with disgust and self-importance. The guards turned, and he saw both of them blink in shock. One of them almost dropped their jaw.

"My apologies." One stammered out, eyes running up and down Feliks as if he was covered in jewels. "I meant no offence." The other reached over and opened the doors immediately. Feliks didn't nod in thanks like he normally would have done, instead shooting them callous looks before marching inside, barking to Mei and Leon to hurry up.

Once the doors had closed behind them, Feliks allowed himself a moment to blink in shock.

"That was easy." He mused. Mei rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, because you're basically sex in a suit to them." She murmured. "Come on, we have to find this slave." Nodding, Feliks slid his mask of indifference back into place and kept on moving forward.

The casino was huge, that became clear within an instant. From his vantage point on one of the balconies that overlooked the main playing floor, he could see game upon game, each area bracketed by lounges draped with beautiful men and women, with servers weaving through the masses with trays in hand. The walls and floor were carpeted in red velvet, and the ceiling was a huge white dome smattered with stunning stained glass. The chaise lounges, stairs, statues and fountains on the main floor were outfitted in shades of gold and black.

Every person in attendance who wasn't a server was dressed to the nines, many in the same gender-neutral style as Feliks, though he was happy to see that no-one else seemed to pull it off like he did. The place stank of people who had far too much money to throw around, and nowhere to throw it.

There must have been hundreds of servants scurrying around to keep the huge machine of a casino running, and Feliks felt his heart sink as he also took note of how many servants he could see that matched the description of the slave they were seeking out. This wasn't going to be easy. He felt Mei brush her fingers against his wrist briefly.

"Remember, we are specifically looking for a sex slave. The servers and such don't matter." She murmured. He nodded ever so slightly, before pushing away from the railing and descending the stairs. He could feel a few eyes glancing over at him curiously, him being the new arrival, and staying on him for the disguise he was outfitted in.

Looking up, he caught the eye of a beautiful, dark-skinned woman. He quirked an eyebrow and looked away, emanating disinterest.

 _Sorry ma'am, but unless you're a spunky princess with a foul mouth, you don't interest me_.

"So, where would we find sex slaves in a place like this?" he breathed to Leon. Leon's eyes slid sideways, to where, under the balconies, he could see doors leading off into a number of rooms.

"Pleasure rooms." Leon murmured. "They're private, though some slaves who work there do leave on occasion to do the rounds and lure customers inside." Feliks nodded, trying his best not to make a face at that idea. It seemed so wrong. If there was one thing he could say for this whole mission, it was that he definitely understood why Francis was so anti-slavery. It was a fucked-up industry inside and out.

"Should we do the rounds of them, then? This Linh, she knows we're coming to get her tonight. Perhaps she did something to draw attention to herself?" Mei shrugged.

"Possibly. But it would be incredibly risky to do anything like that." She murmured. "It's a possibility, though. We should keep an eye out for it." Feliks nodded again.

"Well, let's begin, I guess." He murmured as the three of them set out, letting the garish colour and wealth of the casino swallow them.

* * *

Kari sifted through the files, eyes flickering up to where she could see Arthur working his way through the boxes and Francis standing nearby doing the same. It was risky having those two in the same vicinity. She had no idea what it was, but Francis seemed to be truly enraged tonight.

Arthur, conversely, had gotten more and more morose as time had passed. His expression was flat and saddened, and Kari well and truly wished to have empathy like Lukas and Emilia did. She wanted so badly to know what they were both feeling and why. It was eating away at her. She was usually never the type to engage in petty quarrels, but the tension between Arthur and Francis was oddly like watching a train crash. It was horrifying in nature, but you just couldn't look away. Kari had somehow gotten herself caught up in their drama, and now that she was in it, she just wanted a resolution.

Her eyes drifted back to Arthur as she watched the pirate sift through the files. He paused, blinking, then turned to her.

"What was the identification number again?" he inquired. Kari fished her Cell out of her coat and checked.

"2908471." She recited. Arthur lifted the file in his hands out of the box, examined it closely, then nodded, smiling for the first time the entire night.

"Thank god. I've got it." Tori let out a whoop, punching the air victoriously as she too confirmed that it was the right paper. Francis oddly didn't seem as happy, expression lifting only slightly. Kari resisted the urge to shake her head at him in disappointment. He really was being quite a downer tonight. Arthur handed it to Tori, who unbuttoned the front of her shirt with no warning and slid it in before buttoning it up again. Kari saw Arthur blinking at her in surprise, and bit back a snort. She herself didn't know the Daernic princess too well, but she was certainly an unpredictable person.

"Now let's get the hell out of here." Kari said, relieved. They all nodded, shifting towards the entrance quietly. As they did so, however, a loud chime rang out through the whole building. Francis' back went completely rigid, and they all paused in confusion.

"What the fuck was that?" Tori murmured. Kari's eyes were on Francis, who had gone completely white. His eyes looked far away, and Kari realised he was shaking.

"I'm going to make the assumption that we should hide." Kari murmured, stepping forward to grab Francis' wrist and drag him along behind her. Arthur and Tori followed her, both looking uncertain. Kari frowned, glancing around the large records room. It was presumptuous to immediately hide, but in this twisted place, who knew what could be lingering around the corner. "Tori, you keep that file close." Tori nodded, folding her arms over her stomach protectively.

They slipped out of the file room, darting quickly down the hallway. Francis seemed to be coming back to his senses now, and he pulled his wrist out of Kari's grip. She glanced back at him, and saw a deeply troubled look on his face, but chose not to comment on it. Saints knew the man was hardly going to share his woes with _her_.

The hallway was exceptionally bare of doors and rooms to hide in. Kari could feel her anxiety rising the more they moved, and she felt relief flood her system when they spotted a door leading off. She heard Francis mutter something, but she ignored him and ducked inside, the others following her.

It only took a moment to realise that they had managed to wander into a private pleasure room, and Kari took that moment to grab the other three and haul them behind a thick curtain, pressing their backs against the wall as she cringed in horror.

"Excellent pick, Kari." Arthur deadpanned. She reached out and smacked him in the dimness.

"Fuck you. We didn't exactly have any other options, now did we?" she hissed at him. He murmured something unintelligible and then fell silent. Kari muttered a curse as she looked around, struggling to see a way out of this. They couldn't exactly stay here forever. Now that they had the file, they needed get out as fast as possible. Even if Feliks, Mei and Leon failed to locate the slave, it would result in Hamide Boushab having a hell of a time trying to sell the girl if she chose. Causing that evil woman strife could only be a good thing, in Kari's opinion.

She was about to turn to the others and start planning their escape when the door swung open, and a pair of footsteps stumbled in. Kari made a face. Oh saints. She really did not want to be here right now. Pleasure rooms had one purpose, and she hated that that purpose was almost definitely what the new arrivals were here for. Glancing sideways, she could see Francis shaking his head from side to side, murmuring under his breath, expression looking deeply uncomfortable.

"Take yer clothes off." She heard a deep, gruff voice say.

"Just block it out." She muttered to the others. "We can leave when they're done."

"Okay sir." The other voice said. Kari froze. That voice. Peeking out from the smallest of gaps into the curtain, she saw the two people who had just entered the room. One was a tall, muscle-bound man with a leer on his face.

The other was a child.

* * *

It took Feliks over an hour of wandering through the main casino parlour before he even got a glimpse of the slave they were set to rescue.

After thinking about it, Feliks had become increasingly convinced that the slave – Linh – would have done something to not necessarily make herself stand out, but definitely to indicate that she was their target. Mei had been sceptical, but to his surprise, Leon had been on his side, nodding along with his ideas.

"We need to think about how slaves see the resistance, or what symbols they use to represent them. I don't know too much about it, but if you two do that would be helpful as hell."

Mei hadn't been able to come up with anything, but Leon had made a comment that had stuck in Feliks' mind. "Lots of people would use a red symbol. The Union uses blue as their colours, so people use the opposite to represent the rebels. Birds is always a classic one. A red bird is a possibility, but it really does vary from circle to circle."

Feliks had kept that in mind as he moved through the casino, deigning to play a round of a game here and there to blend in, eyes trained on the sex slaves specifically. They were easy to identify; they all wore simple, white tunics with lace-up fronts that were easy to undo, and black leggings that could also easily be slid off. Their biceps were adorned with golden bands.

Feliks had been eyeing the clothes and hair. He hadn't paid any attention to the arm bands, which was why it was such a miracle that he spotted it. His eyes had skimmed over her initially, until his gaze somehow landed on the gold band on her bicep. Landed on it, and more specifically, the tiny bundle of red feathers tied to the inside edge of it. It was barely visible, even to someone who was looking.

His eyes shifted to her face. His heart started to race. She looked to be in her mid to late twenties, was ethnically Lysi, and was female. Even if she wasn't their target, she matched the description very closely. He slid across the room, until she was less than a metre away. She had been given a brief code to respond to, and he prayed that he had the right person as he sidled up behind her.

"If the western sparrow gets the morning worm, what of the east?" the woman went still for a moment, before he saw her tilt her head sideways ever so slightly.

"The sun, right in its eyes." Silence reigned for a moment, before he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. She turned, and he saw the relief, almost crushing in its intensity, lingering in her eyes. He surveyed her face. She had black hair, grown out long, which was almost stunningly straight. Her skin was a light olive shade, and scattered with freckles. Her eyes were dark and almond-shaped, framed by long, dark lashes. This was Linh.

He tightened his grip and slid his eyes sideways, towards Mei and Leon, and slowly back to her. He saw her nod ever so slightly, and when he released her arm and wandered back through the crowds, she followed him.

When Mei and Leon looked at him, he inclined his head back ever so slightly. He saw their eyes shift behind him and lock onto her. They nodded, ever so slightly, and Feliks marched over to one of the private rooms. He didn't get so much as an odd look as Linh, Mei and Leon followed him in. He shut the door firmly.

Linh seemed to be in a state of shock, staring between the three of them.

"You…you're rebels?" she murmured. Her voice was soft, and shaking slightly. As debatable a statement as that was, Feliks decided not to drag her into the drama in his life, and simply nodded. She let out a strangled sob, pressing a hand to her mouth to silence it.

"Shhhh, shhhh." Feliks hissed. "This is a delicate situation. If we're all going to get out of here alive, we need to do this very carefully." She nodded, instantly composing herself, albeit still breathing unsteadily. Once she had calmed down, he nodded to himself. "Okay, those front doors are very heavily guarded, as are essentially all other parts of the casino. We are getting out of here, but our route is a little perilous." He pointed out the window. "We've gotta climb out the windows, scurry along the roof and climb down the side of the building, and sadly, we don't have climbing gear to stop us from falling."

Linh's eyes were wide, but she was nodding, still. Feliks felt respect course through him. This woman was certainly brave, at least. "The minute we're on the ground, we gotta run. We have a getaway driver but he'd picking us up two blocks away from here. Until then, we gotta do the heavy lifting ourselves okay?" she nodded again. "That sound okay?"

"I would rather die than spend the rest of my life here." She said. "Grievous injury sounds positively delightful." Feliks grinned. He liked this lady.

"Good to hear. We're gonna slip out when we get a good chance to do so. This place is known for garish performances, so we'll wait until most people are distracted to make our escape."

Linh opened her mouth to speak again, but she was cut off when the sound of a loud gunshot rang out through the building. Feliks blinked in shock, as he heard the sounds of yelling and panicking outside.

"Or, you know, we can go now." He said weakly.

* * *

Tori stared at Francis, the screaming from outside not even registering as she stared at the bloody mass decorating the wall. She had seen him get pissed, and get upset, but she had never thought she would see him shoot someone point blank, and with so little hesitation.

There was something broken and fragmented in his eyes as the young boy slave staggered away from the mess that Francis' gun had made of the tall man's head, looking horrified. He shot Francis and the rest of them a look of absolute terror, turning and bolting out the door. Francis lowered his arm, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane. Arthur looked shell-shocked.

"We need to leave." The pirate murmured, jumping into motion as he grabbed Francis' arm and hauled him towards the door. "Now. I mean it, Tori, Kari, we need to go now."

Kari was still staring at Francis. "What the actual fuck were you thinking?" she spat, looking outraged as they all staggered outside. Francis numbly pocketed his gun, and it was only then that Tori realised he was crying. Kari looked ready to explode with rage, so she reached out and grabbed the Fynknian's arm.

"Now is not the time. Arthur's right. We need to get out." Kari still looked thunderous, but she seemed to drop the issue for the time being as they all ran over to the balcony, staring down. The main parlour of the casino had descended into chaos, with the well-dressed masses looking shocked and confused. Tori spat out a curse.

"As crazy as it is, I legitimately think the main entrance might be our best bet here." She said to the others. Arthur nodded grimly, shooting a wary look at Francis.

"I agree." He sighed. "If I get shot to death, I'm haunting all of you motherfuckers for eternity."

"That's fair." Tori reasoned as they turned and ran in the direction of the main doors. "You can expect the same if the opposite happens, Kirkland." She heard Arthur snort as they ran out into the open. The chorus of gasps and screams told her that they had been spotted by the masses, and she grabbed the others and hauled them straight towards the doors as she saw guards running towards them.

"Fucking sprint, guys!" she shouted, in surprisingly good cheer for the situation as they ran past the guards at the door and emerged onto the street. Tori felt a bullet whiz past her ear and ducked, following her own advice as armed guards came pouring out of the building. She couldn't tell if Francis, Arthur and Kari were even behind her anymore, but she really hoped they were.

The four of them ran through the city's dark streets, hell nipping at their heels.

* * *

Feliks had been glad for a distraction right up until the moment that he realised said distraction had been caused by his dumbass friends.

He, Linh, Mei and Leon had all just dropped safely (what a miracle) to the ground, when they had heard a commotion near the entrance and turned to see their friends, four idiots clad in black and looking pants-shittingly terrified, sprinting out the doors and flinching as bullets grazed too close for comfort. Feliks had only been able to manage the singular thought of _what the fuck have they done now_ before Leon had urged them all to take advantage of the chaos and flee.

It made getting out of the casino very easy, yes; it was little more than jumping the fence and hauling Linh over to a side street for them to officially be clear of Ikcheok, but Feliks now had the whole other dilemma of wondering what the actual hell the other four had done since, by the sounds of things, they had _shot_ someone.

Feliks' thoughts quickly had to be diverted from that mess, however, because, as he had quickly discovered, he couldn't breathe. He had known the corset would be a tight fit – it was a corset, that was the whole point – but his chest was screaming and there were black spots dancing in front of his eyes by the time they had managed to get a block or so away. He doubled over when they stopped briefly, chest heaving as he struggled to drag enough air into his lungs.

He felt Mei's hand on his shoulder as he lifted his head slightly. Leon and Linh were frowning at him in concern. He breathed in slowly, inhaling as much as the corset would allow before exhaling. Leon approached him and slung Feliks' arm over his shoulder, placing his own arm around Feliks' waist to support him.

"We need to keep moving, sorry." Leon murmured. Feliks nodded as, with Leon's help, he darted down the streets.

They managed to avoid any sort of guard or other authority by keeping to side streets and alleyways, and Feliks almost keeled over in relief when they spotted Alfred leaning against the side of his car. He jumped into action the moment he saw them, yanking the doors open and leaping into the driver's side. Mei and Linh jumped in and Leon dragged Feliks up into the car, slamming the door shut as Alfred revved the engine and took off.

Feliks slid sideways onto the seat, clutching his aching chest. He could see Alfred shooting worried looks at him in the rearview mirror.

"We're really close buddy, just hold on." He said. Feliks nodded, head swimming as he laid back down on the seat, continuing to struggle to drag air into his lungs.

* * *

When the door burst open and Tori, Kari, Francis and Arthur stumbled inside, faces white and breathing like they had just run a marathon, Emilia was understandably shocked and confused. They all looked exhausted beyond belief, and Emilia raised an eyebrow when she glanced out the window and wondered if they had actually run the five blocks from the casino to here.

Elizabeta had barely opened her mouth to speak when Kari straightened up, expression thunderous, and whirled around to look at Francis.

"Alright, we're out of the casino. Now _what the fuck_ is wrong with you?!" she hissed, her voice blistering with rage. Francis took a wary step back, expression twisted. Emilia stared at the group. Tori was wincing and Arthur had a strange, morose look on his face. What in the system had happened?

"Can someone explain what is going on?" Elizabeta asked, shooting Kari a reprimanding look as the girl scowled. "What the hell happened?"

"I'll tell you what happened." Kari snapped, jabbing a thumb at Francis. "This idiot fucked up our _stealth mission_ by shooting someone in the face." Emilia gawked at that, but she didn't even have time to process that news before the door swung open and Feliks, Mei, Leon, and a pretty woman she assumed was Linh stumbled inside. She picked up on the sound of ragged, strangled breathing easily, as did Liz, who darted over to Feliks straight away as the bounty hunter sat up, face pale and looking like he was struggling to breathe a little.

"Did I just hear that you guys were the ones responsible for that gunshot?" Mei exclaimed, staring at them as Liz yanked Feliks' coat off, whipped out a knife and gracelessly started to cut his vest and shirt off. Emilia watched for a moment before turning back to Francis, whose expression was drawn. Kari nodded, shooting a virulent look at the blond.

"Yeah, _he_ was." She said, jerking her head at Francis. The bounty hunter flinched, and Emilia watched as Arthur bit his lip, turning to Kari.

"Kari, what's done is done. Just leave it." the Fynknian turned her blistering gaze on Arthur now, though the pirate didn't back down.

"There were a million ways to handle that situation." She spat. "Are you seriously saying that shooting the asshole was the best one?" Arthur shook his head.

"I'm not saying that, but we can hardly take it back now."

"Can someone please explain why Francis shot someone?" Elizabeta said, sounding weary. Emilia glanced over the other girl, who was rubbing Feliks' shoulders comfortingly as he gulped in air like a man half-drowned. Tori, who was frowning in concern, had also migrated over to her boyfriend's side at some point during the conversation.

"We ended up hiding in one of the private rooms to avoid detection." Kari said, sounding frustrated. "Two people came in to use it and Francis decided to shoot one."

"You're neglecting to mention that the guy Francis shot was in about his fifties, and he rightfully did so because the slave that guy had with him looked like he was about 10 years old." Tori spoke up finally, frowning gently at Kari. "I agree with Arthur. It might not have been the best course of action, but what's done is done, and I can't say that I feel sorry for that creep."

Kari scowled. Emilia looked at her. She didn't know Kari too well, but the girl had become a lot less gentle in the time since Lukas had gone to Fynkn. She knew that Kari had a very big soft spot for her brother, but she wished that the other girl wouldn't be so pointlessly aggressive.

"I don't feel sorry for him either, but that was a stupid move." She snapped, turning to glare at Francis. "Why did you react like that?"

"It's a touchy subject for him, isn't it? It's hard to relive things like that." Arthur muttered from behind him, head bowed and face hidden behind one hand. Francis went white, looking at the pirate in shock for a moment before his expression contorted in rage.

"You don't know shit." He snapped. "You honestly fucking believe that you _know_ me-"

"I _don't_." Arthur said, his voice breaking, to Emilia's shock. When he withdrew his hand from his face, she could see that the normally inscrutable pirate was crying. "Francis I'm not an idiot. I know why you hate me so much. It really would be nice if you could just explain it, though." The pirate turned his tearful eyes on Francis, who had also frozen in shock at seeing the other man so upset. "I've told you everything. Every reason I had for doing what I did. But you can't extend the same courtesy even when it becomes clear to anyone who takes more than a cursory look at you." The pirate shook his head, wiping at the tears on his face. "I _don't_ know you, because you won't let me, even when I've made apology after apology and tried to make things right between us." Arthur shook his head dismally. "I would say that I don't know why I try anymore but I do."

Silence reigned over the room for a moment, before Arthur shook his head again and walked away, into the other bedroom. Francis was silent and still, before, after a very long pause, he followed him. Emilia didn't need empathy to know that they needed to be left alone for now.


	39. The Tragic History of You and I (Part 1)

**Right.**

 **So.**

 **...**

 **I have nothing to say for myself.**

 **I had finals, somehow survived them and found my imagination very lacking! This chapter was originally the first half of the whole Chapter 39, but it's been ages since I updated, I haven't finished the second part, and it was getting long so I'm splitting it and handing you part 1 today.**

 **I won't lie, this chapter was very hard to write. I kinda had to write it in small increments just because it got challenging to write some scenes. This chapter comes with a whole lot of warnings and very triggering content, so if any of the content here triggers you, please don't read it. I'll provide a short, non-explicit summary in my next update. Stay safe guys. I love you all.**

 **WARNINGS:  
** **Frequent and consistent scenes of, mentions/references to and descriptions of  
** **\- Rape of children, teenagers and adults  
** **\- Sexual assault and harassment, molestation and abuse  
** **\- Human trafficking, forced prostitution and sex slavery  
** **\- Abuse of children and teenagers, as well as adults, including sexual, verbal, psychological and physical abuse  
** **\- Rape trauma syndrome and PTSD, in addition to terminal illness**

 **I honestly don't know when Part 2 of this will arrive but,,,,yeah, I've been struggling with motivation for this story. That does NOT mean I am abandoning it! It just means that my good old weekly updates will no longer be a reality, sorry. I hope that you guys are alright with that.**

 **Sorry for the delay and thank you all for being so patient!**

* * *

 _The Glamour District,  
Nonpo-Sunhae, Xexei,  
8th Septombre_

Francis shut the door behind him, eyes trailing over to where Arthur was. He had perched himself up on the windowsill, eyes gazing out over the vast skyline of Nonpo-Sunhae. The pirate's eyes were red, and he was yet to wipe away the last remnants of the tear-tracks on his face. Francis bit his lip. He had only ever seen the pirate cry a handful of times before, and seeing it again was making him uncomfortable. Sighing deeply, Francis approached him, gently moving to sit on the windowsill beside him.

"Here to call me a soulless, amoral slaver again?" Arthur asked. Francis flinched. That set of insults had been one of the first he had hurled at the other when he'd discovered what the pirate had been doing to get money. He found himself legitimately regretting the words. He really hadn't understood the whole situation when he had chosen to blow up, and more than anything, he wished that he had taken the time to listen to Arthur's explanation all those years ago. They had been best friends, and the loss had hurt Francis more deeply than he was willing to admit.

"Not exactly." He murmured as he shuffled to get more comfortable. "How long have you known?" Arthur was silent for a long moment.

"It…was a lot of small things, that didn't really add up. It took me a while, but I figured it out eventually. Everything just made sense, so I went with that conclusion."

"Why not confront me about it earlier, then?" Francis murmured. He saw Arthur glance at him in his peripheral vision.

"It's not my business." Arthur muttered. "I didn't…I didn't know what sort of things might get stirred up if I just confronted you with it with no warning. I just wish you could have been honest with me."

"Don't act like you've always been endlessly forthcoming and honest." Francis said. "There are a lot of things that you refuse to tell anyone." Arthur was still, before he shifted so that he was facing Francis. He held his hand out as if asking for a handshake and, baffled, Francis shook it.

"Fine. My name isn't Arthur, it's Edward, but I've been called Arthur as long as I can remember because Edward is my father's name too, and my family likes to avoid confusion. Arthur's only my middle name. My surname is Windsor. My mother's name is Anna, and I have three older brothers. You met Colin on Rela, but I have two others named Alistair and Noah. I also have a sister-in-law, Colin's wife Niamh, and a niece, Eirínn. I was born and raised in a small country town named Hensa on Pyndaph. Every single generation of my family to date has had at least one person struck down with Chalydrantis, and without fail, my family seems to pretend the ones who died of it no longer exist.

"I moved to Xexei when I was 17 so that I could study commerce. I got diagnosed with Chalydrantis when I was 19, and I dropped out of school soon after. My family know I'm a pirate, but only Colin and Niamh know why, and I'm fairly sure that I've been disowned at this point. Any other questions?"

Francis was completely silent, staring at him in shock. Arthur was shaking slightly.

"…Okay." Francis murmured after a moment as he absorbed the information he had been given. Arthur watched him silently. "…Edward, huh?"

"Oh, shut up." Arthur grumbled. Francis looked him up and down. The name did suit him, actually. "I don't suppose you have anything to share." Francis sighed, running a hand back through his hair.

"Honestly…there's a lot I don't even know." He murmured, words hesitant. "I…I was given a name when I was born, I'm sure, but there isn't a single part of me that remembers what it was. I don't know for certain who my father is, but I have a good idea. I barely remember my mother or anyone else, really. There are so many holes in my mind. So many things I was _made_ to forget." Arthur was watching him keenly, eyes oddly sympathetic. Francis took a deep breath, readying himself to say what he hadn't yet admitted to anyone.

"I…I was a slave." He murmured. "From the moment I was born. I was raised in it. For sixteen years I lived it. I spent years under the thumbs of countless cruel owners and traders. I…I hate it with so much passion it's almost unfathomable for so many people." He sighed, looking over at Arthur, whose whole face had turned downwards in sadness. "I don't remember everything, but I can tell you what I do, if you'd help me out with the later parts, of course."

Arthur smiled weakly at him, and Francis saw that his eyes were filling with tears again. "Of course."

* * *

 _The Vann Estate,  
Trysek, South-Eastern Xexei,  
4495CC_

 _(17 years ago)_

The boy had a name, but he didn't remember what it was. He was encouraged to ignore it. His mama said otherwise; she whispered it to him in the night as she ran her hands through his hair, and whenever she bent down to smile and slip him a treat during the day. During the day, he didn't know it, but it always came back to him at night. His mama made sure of that.

He loved his mama; she was a very beautiful woman, with long golden-brown hair and dark eyes. He had blue eyes, but hers were brown. He had asked her one day where his blue eyes came from. She hadn't seemed to want to answer.

"Your father." She had admitted eventually. He didn't understand that, though. He didn't know his dada, and the only man here with blue eyes was Master Adrik. When he had asked his mama if Master Adrik was his dada, though, her expression had turned tight and strained like it did when she was upset about something. He had never asked again.

He liked Master Adrik's house. He usually had to stay quiet and avoid anyone dressed up nice, but he was allowed to run free wherever he wanted. Master Adrik had a habit of kicking other slave children if they were bad, but he normally just frowned at him and left him alone. He was happy with that. Getting kicked hurt.

His mama was very young, compared to the other slaves with children. His mama was 20, according to Missi, who was the woman who always kept him from getting into too much trouble. He himself was almost five, so that made his mama a lot younger than most mamas. Not that he minded. His mama was still the best one.

He wished he was with his mama right now. There were a bunch of fancy people arriving at the house to see Master Adrik, and he only wanted to avoid them. One of the fancy people had spotted him when entering and looked at him for a while. The man had given him a little smile before moving on to see Master Adrik. He didn't know what to think of that man. He didn't know if he liked the smile.

He had moved around trying to find his mama again, but she must have been busy, so he entertained himself by playing with another child, Camille. They looked a lot alike, to the point where he wondered if they were siblings, even if his mama said they weren't. Camille had gotten tired and decided to go to bed too, after a while. He knew he should go sleep too; it was dark outside now, and probably past his bedtime, but the house was very empty with all of Master Adrik's friends in the main parlour talking, so he thought a bit of exploration and fun wouldn't hurt.

He didn't get to explore for long, though, because as he was running around a corner, he slammed straight into a tall person's legs.

"Oh my, you're fast, aren't you?" staggering back and looking up, he could see it was the man from earlier, smiling down at him again.

"Sowry mister." He said, mouth still refusing to properly pronounce 'sorry'. The man just smiled again.

"That's okay, little one. How old are you?"

"Fowr." He said holding up four fingers to better illustrate, smiling as he bobbed up and down on his heels. The man smiled, and he felt something in his stomach twist. He didn't know if he liked that smile.

"Oh my, you're a big boy." The man said, kneeling down to be level with him. "Say, would you mind helping me out real quick? I need a strong boy like you." He hesitated, really just wanting to go and sleep now, but he was always told to be polite and nice to people, especially people who weren't dressed in 'slave' colours like him.

"Okay." He said. The man smiled, straightening up and offering his hand. He reached out and curled his small hand around the man's fingers, and followed him down the hall. The man chose a room and led him inside, closing the door behind him.

"Now," the man said as he knelt down again and started to gently pull at his clothes, "I'm going to need you to be quiet, okay? Can you do that?" puzzled and a little uncomfortable as the man slipped his 'slavewear' off, he nodded. The man smiled again, picking him up and sitting him on the bed before his hands moved to undo his own belt. "Good boy."

He had no idea what the man was doing, especially not with his privates, but it _hurt_. He started to cry almost immediately, even though he had promised to be quiet. The man murmured to him and pressed his big hand over his mouth, even though he continued to cry. He was doing something weird, moving back and forth continuously, and every time he opened his eyes, he could only see the man's chest. He was too small to see even his neck, much less his head.

He continued to cry even when the man started shuddering and got off him, with something white and sticky coming out of him, and the man was starting to look annoyed now.

"Stop crying." The man said as he pulled his pants back up. "I popped your cherry is all." But he didn't know what that meant, so he cried even harder.

The man shoved his tunic back over his head and shushed him again, pushing him out the door. "Don't you tell anyone, okay? You're a big strong boy, right? You don't need to go and run and tell anyone." He was sobbing and sniffling, but he nodded, and the man relaxed, smiling again. He hated that smile. "Good."

* * *

The man ended up staying for the whole week with Master Adrik. He ended up asking him for 'help' about three more times.

Every single time it hurt so much he thought he was dying. Every single time he felt sick and dirty. His appetite vanished, to the immediate notice of his mother. He'd had an iron deficiency at one point, so she assumed it was probably the same thing again. Master Adrik allowed a doctor to come and administer a blood test. When the results came back, she called Master Adrik, him and his mama in, as well as Missi.

"Iron deficiency?" Master Adrik had asked absently. The doctor had shaken her head and handed him a tablet.

"No. His loss in appetite hasn't been caused by anything in particular, but the blood test is still worth looking at." The doctor had thrown a positively nasty look at Master Adrik then. "He tested positive for the _Treponema pallidum_ subspecies _pallidum_ bacterium." Master Adrik's expression turned from politely disinterested to baffled. The doctor elaborated. "Syphilis. He has syphilis."

Master Adrik's confused expression changed to one of mild shock as his mama went completely still. He heard Missi sigh deeply, pressing a hand to her mouth and looking distressed. He looked at the three of them, confused. He didn't know what syphilis was, but it sounded scary. Was he going to die?

Master Adrik caught the harsh look the doctor was sending him and glared at her. "For God's sake, you think I…?" he trailed off, shaking his head before indicating his mama. "The boy is mine. And I'm not a pedophile. And I don't have syphilis. It was someone else." The doctor nodded, her harsh look softening into something warm when she approached him and knelt down.

"Hey there." She said, her voice nice and sweet. He liked her. "Someone has been doing things to you recently, haven't they?" he didn't really know what she meant by that, unless she meant what the man had been making him 'help' him with. He blinked at her, puzzled and owlish, and she explained more. He saw his mama close her eyes and cover her face with her hands as the doctor gently described a few things to him and asked him if anyone had done those things to him.

The man had told him not to say anything, but this doctor looked very important, so he told her. Master Adrik's face had changed into something scary. It was the look he normally got before he started yelling and shouting. The doctor nodded, thanking him and telling him he was brave before standing again and shooting Master Adrik a curious look.

"You seem so concerned over a slave." She'd said, tone intrigued. Master Adrik.

"It's not about the damn boy. It's about the fact I was housing a child rapist." Master Adrik eyed the doctor. "Regardless of legal status, a kid's a kid. I need to go and have a few words with my 'friend'." Master Adrik turned on his heel and left the room while his mama wrapped him up in her arms as the doctor pulled a vial of liquid from her bag and a syringe, handing them to his mama.

"This will kill the virus. Fill the syringe completely and inject him once a morning for the next week. I'll come back in seven days and do another blood test to make sure it's gone." His mama took the items and thanked the doctor, who nodded at her and shot him a pitying look before packing her things and leaving.

Master Adrik shoved the man out onto the street, bruises forming on his face, and he never came back. His next blood test showed up as a negative, to his mama's relief.

He didn't learn what the word 'rape' meant for another seven years.

* * *

 _4498CC  
_ _(14 years ago)_

"NO! YOU CAN'T YOU CAN'T YOU CAN'T!" his mama screamed as one of Master Adrik's guards dragged her backwards. "YOU CAN'T TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME!" she was thrashing around like a wild creature, eyes fixed on him desperately as he was dragged in the opposite direction, also fighting to get back to her. "NO, NO, NO, MY BABY!" She was screaming, tears streaming down her face. Master Adrik looked mildly uncomfortable as he watched the mother and son get ripped away from one another.

"You knew this was coming, Genevieve." He heard Adrik say to his mother. "He's almost ten years old, and Boushab offered a high price for him." Boushab. That was the dark-skinned woman who had come by to see Adrik a few days ago. She had seemed very interested in him, even more so when she had asked him his name, and he had legitimately been unable to give her an answer.

"He's my son! He's only nine years old…" his mama sobbed, body finally going slack as she sobbed, her whole body shuddering with grief. "You can't…"

"I can." Adrik said simply. He nodded towards the people holding him. "Go on." He stared hopelessly at his mother, memorising every line of her crushed, tear-stained face as he was dragged away. Her eyes were filled with agony; as though she were having a limb ripped away, not a child. He sobbed and screamed in equal measure as his mama, his lovely, kind, warm, beautiful mama, slipped out of sight.

 _(That was the last time he ever saw her)_

He lost the will to fight and kick and scream when his mama vanished, body going limp as he succumbed to tears and sobs that wracked his whole body, just wanting to be in his mama's warm arms again. He didn't want to leave her. He just wanted to be curled up under her watchful gaze again, where he felt like even the scariest monsters couldn't touch him.

"Come now, you shouldn't be crying." He heard a warm, rich voice behind him. Still sniffling, he blinked in surprise as a woman crouched by him. It was the same woman who his mama said was buying him. She had very dark skin, with black hair that had been braided back neatly that he was sure was normally more frizzy. She was wearing very nice clothes; a full length, dark red dress with long sleeves. Where the top half, sleeves included, was fitted to her slender, tall frame, the skirt was a little fuller. She had a cream fur vest draped over the top, and he could see countless golden chains adorning her neck. Her fingers were choked with gold and emeralds too, in the form of elegant rings. He could see the tips of polished black boots poking out from the hem of her dress.

He wouldn't call her beautiful, necessarily – there was something in her dark eyes that unsettled him – but she certainly looked wealthy. He blinked as she knelt down, carefully tucking her red dress around her. She smiled then, and he wondered why her eyes had unsettled him; they were so kind.

"I know this is frightening for you, my little one, but I can promise that everything will work out okay." She said gently, reaching out a hand to gently caress his face, smiling so kindly he felt himself relax. She smiled like his mama did. "My name is Hamide Boushab, little one. I want to make sure you become the best that you can, and take care of you. Will you let me do that?" she held out a hand, kind and inviting.

He sniffled one last time, but looked up at her gentle expression and then down at her mocha-toned hand. She was wearing perfume, and though it was very strong, it was very appealing, too. He nodded, and slid his hand into hers. She smiled so happily that he almost immediately felt his mood improve, and straightened up, gently pulling him behind her. Hamide had slowed her steps so he didn't have to run to keep up with her.

"You're going to be very special, I can just tell." She murmured, using the hand not holding his to gently run her fingers through his hair. "Don't worry, little one. Your mother will be well taken care of, as shall you. Tell me, have you ever been to space?" he looked up at her in wonder, shaking his head. Hamide smiled, gently caressing his face again. "Well, would you like to?"

He nodded eagerly, previous sadness pushed to the back of his mind, and she laughed at his enthusiasm. "Good, because that is where we're about to go, little one. I hope you're ready."

He did cast a look over his shoulder as she led him up the steps to her elaborate spaceship, stomach churning nervously as he thought his own mama. He was about to ask a question, perhaps if he would be allowed to see his mama again, when Hamide shifted. The folds of her dress fluttered slightly, and another waft of her perfume hit his nostrils. His objections died, and he silently followed her up the stairs.

* * *

As far as he could remember, living with Hamide had never been outright unpleasant.

He had been taken to her house in Nayong City, a place lovingly dubbed 'the Slave Garden', though he didn't know that at the time. It was a massive house, a mansion of epic proportions. Being taken to Hamide's house had redefined his notions of 'wealthy' and poor. Master Adrik looked like he was living in squalor in comparison.

He had missed his mother, but those moments had been few and far in between. Any time that he had felt sorrow and loss welling up, Hamide had pulled him into her arms and held him, so alike a mother that he had been unable to resist the urge to bury his head in her bosom and let himself be comforted. Her perfume, sweet and strong, became a frequent scent around the house. It was comforting to a T, and it soon replaced the feelings of regret he had upon leaving Adrik's house.

She encouraged him against referring to Adrik as 'master'. Since Hamide was his carer now, he accepted her explanation without question.

"You are not meant to be the type who services only a single person in their lifetime. You are far too precious for that, my little one. You will be able to cater to any and all that seek you."

Though he had been curious as to what Hamide wanted with him, for the first six months, he had been able to run wild and free through her house. He wore silk and velvet and got to learn how to play instruments and do his hair and Hamide even allowed him to learn his way around a makeup kit, even though the men in Adrik Vann's household had never touched the stuff. He enjoyed it all. Hamide allowed him to braid her hair and apply a pretty eyeliner on her frequently, and he found himself latching onto her easily.

He disliked her being gone, and he craved the warmth she supplied. Even on days where she fixed him with a harsh glare and ordered him about, he begun to crave her warmth. She allowed him close to her even when she was angry or upset. It stopped him from going insane, most days.

 _(He only realised why she did that years later. Why she made him get used to being close to people who wanted to hurt him)_

Hamide was tactile; she hugged him and kissed him and let him wrap his hands around her legs and fiddle with her hair.

"Touch is a part of the human experience. Touching other people is good. You need to get used to it."

He accepted most things that Hamide said without question. That was why when, after about six months of him living with her, when she started to touch him more, and eventually touch him in places that she hadn't before, he had just accepted it as normal. Touch was normal. Touch was good. Touch was also confusing, though.

Though it was normal and good, it sometimes made him feel ways that felt…weird. Not bad, but weird. Hamide had been touching him one day, all around his thighs and privates, when he'd found himself almost knocked off his feet by a peculiar sensation. He had wanted more of it, but Hamide hadn't been pleased. He had been confused and surprised by the presence of the white, sticky substance that his body had produced. One part of his brain had recalled the man who had given him 'syphilis' when he was four. The rest was confused.

Hamide actually punished him for that. As she had explained, she hadn't been done, but he had gone ahead and had fun without her. Since her fun was the priority, he had done something wrong. He was horrified to have been so ignorant. He had practically begged forgiveness from Hamide, and after a long period of silence, she accepted the apology. It was another two weeks before she started to touch him again, though. He made sure not to make the same mistake again. He almost failed a few times, but eventually trained himself to stay under control. Hamide was proud of him for that, and her pride was like an injection of vitality straight to the heart. He thrived on it.

She made him do some other weird things that didn't have much to do with touching. She made him eat ice-blocks, and while he liked those, she made him try to put them as far down his throat as he could. The first dozen or so times, he made himself sick by hitting his gag reflex, but Hamide taught him to avoid it. By the time he was eleven, he could damn near swallow one whole.

Hamide invited over a strange man one night. He didn't know that he liked him, but he wore the same perfume as Hamide, so he found himself leaning into the man anyway. Hamide explained that they had some more things to teach him, that the man was good at teaching. This man also taught touching, though he touched other parts of him. He also put his fingers inside him, which he didn't like much.

He was told by Hamide that women enjoyed having a mouth at their privates. He didn't understand why – wouldn't they be afraid of teeth? – but went along anyway. He was taught how to do that, too.

When he was eleven years old, he found out what 'sex' was.

He also found out was 'rape' was.

He had told Hamide about the man who had made him 'help' him years ago, and when he went back to Hamide to ask if what that man did was 'rape', she had sat him on her lap and explained.

"It was, little one, because you weren't technically a slave then. Karl told you that sex requires consent, yes?" he had nodded along to that. "Well, my darling, when you're a slave, you serve your master or masters. You exist to fulfil their desires, so you consent automatically. When that man did those things to you, you weren't a slave, just the son of one, so yes, my little one, you were raped. But that can't happen again." He had nodded, accepting her word as law. That was what he had always done.

Not long after that, Hamide invited a very rich friend of hers over.

"He is going to be your master tonight, alright, so you are consenting to everything. You are made to serve him. Do you understand that?"

He wanted to make Hamide proud, so he nodded.

The man took him to a room and did the sorts of things Hamide and the other man had been doing for a while now. He responded how Hamide had taught him too; moaning and arching into the man's touch and watching his face carefully to detect what made him happiest.

Afterwards, the man had left with a wide smile, and Hamide had let him eat as many sweets as he could fit in his mouth. She praised him all night, telling him he was perfect, her perfect little one. That he had made that man happy, and would undoubtedly make many others happy, too.

He was 12.

* * *

 _The Jiseong Estate,  
Nayong City, Xexei  
4503CC_

 _(9 years ago)_

He didn't know what to think of his new owner. He was no Hamide, but he was alright.

He was _old_ , though, that was the only bad thing about him. The man must have been about 70, while he was only 13. The man called him 'Adrian', so he had decided that was his name now, at least until his master chose to change it.

Adrian did miss Hamide occasionally. He missed her kindness, her warmth, her gentle ministrations, and most of all, her lovely house. She had pressed an elegant floral handkerchief into his hands right before she'd sold him. It had been doused in her perfume.

"Think of me if you feel distressed." She had said as she'd said farewell. "Remember, you live to serve, now." He had nodded, and gone without complaint to his new owner, but he would be lying if he said he didn't miss Hamide.

This man – Master Jiseong – was kind enough, even if he didn't let Adrian wear as many clothes as he had at Hamide's house. his daily attire was normally restricted to a loose, silken tunic with no sleeves and a simple rope belt. He wasn't permitted to wear any undergarments. It made things easier for his new master. Being so old and busy, he hardly had time to go peeling extra layers off his slave. This way, he could simply lift the tunic, slide inside him and slowly, weakly fuck him for a few minutes whenever he wished.

The man never lasted too long; that was a relief. Adrian didn't like being around his body too much, even when he forced himself to look like it was the opposite. Whether he had the old man up his ass or in his mouth, it was always good to feel the man come. Not for knowing he had given his master gratification, but rather because he knew he could clean himself up and slip away at long last.

The rest of his duties in the house were alright. He liked helping out in the kitchens, which had greatly surprised the other servants, the first few days he'd been here. Adrian had been assigned the role of hairdresser after his great aptitude with braids and other styles had been discovered. Master Jiseong's granddaughter often came running to him with bunches of flowers in her arms, begging him to thread them through her dark locks. He always obliged; she was a sweet little girl.

All in all, though he got sidelong looks from the other servants, some pitying, some disgusted, and Jiseong's aging, wheelchair-bound wife often gave him hateful looks, he didn't mind the household. It was a nice change of scenery at the least. Hamide had tugged him aside to admit that she didn't think that it would be a long time before he was sold again. Jiseong was old, she explained. He had a sickness of the lung that spread with every passing month. He had bought Adrian as a last chance to achieve some pleasure before his inevitable demise, which his wife was unable to fully provide for anymore.

It felt cruel to view Jiseong as a leaking sand timer, but that was what he was. Trying to deny that was a foolish act. Hamide was always right; if she said he was dying, he was dying. So, Adrian did his best. He fulfilled Master Jiseong's every request. The man was his master, and he was made to serve, so serve he did.

* * *

 _Kenta Salon,  
Nayong City, Xexei,  
4504CC_

 _(8 years ago)_

He revised his concept of 'good' and 'bad' conditions shortly after arriving at Kenta. Jiseong had passed just less than a year after Adrian was sold to him, and he had been promptly dumped back in Hamide's hands, given that none of Jiseong's family members wanted him, and the old man hadn't updated his will to include him. It didn't matter to him too much. He had started to dislike the house by the time he left.

He wished to be back there soon enough.

He was 14 when he was sent to Kenta, and he didn't know what to think at first.

It was a brothel, so there were multiple slaves working there. Over two dozen, he heard someone say once. He supposed that was a lot. He didn't really know numbers above ten, but 'dozen' sounded impressive enough.

Kenta was a high-end brothel; the kind that catered to any desire so long as you paid well enough. The rich and illustrious inhabitants of Xexei, in addition to those passing through who wanted a good look at the 'Slave Garden', came in droves to satisfy their sexual cravings. They had all types of fantasies and desires; bondage, teachers and students, shower sex, pool sex, exhibitionism, ephebophilia, rape, snuff.

Kenta catered to everything. He didn't think he could name how many slaves he met only briefly, only for them to completely vanish at another time; victims of those members of society who had the very darkest of desires. The brothel had a morgue underneath; that was as much as he ever wanted to know. Hamide had ensured he was placed on the 'no-snuff' list, citing him as too valuable and well-trained for it. He was just glad that his worth was still being acknowledged; just glad that Hamide was still proud of him.

He hadn't known what to expect, but he had been shoved rather forcefully into life at Kenta. He had been given no choice but to adapt immediately. That was hard to do.

He had been trained through careful ministrations and gradual introductions to the rougher and more intense side of sex. He had been trained to handle anything, but it was still a shock when his first ever client at Kenta left him bleeding profusely and limping for the next four days.

Most of the rest were like that.

After a while, he just stopped trying to act like he was enjoying it all together. He just let his mind slip away and his glaze over as he let his body get ruined and abused by the men and very few women who paid enough to be allowed to do so. He got up afterwards as they left with offhand comments, usually waiting for them to be completely gone before he addressed the searing ache in his gut or the blood flowing from between his legs.

Other times, there was more to take care of; he had raw patches on his wrists from handcuffs to disinfect, bite marks on his body to clean out and sometimes even blood to scrub out of his hair, along with all the other expected bodily fluids. He stopped seeking praise and feigning interest unless explicitly asked for it. It was just a waste of energy when he knew the vast majority of his 'clientele' as Kenta's owner politely put it, cared about a fast, rough fuck and little else. He still couldn't appear entirely disinterested, though, he had learned that too. One man had been offended by the fact that he hadn't been enthusiastic in the proceedings, and had promptly decided to use one of the canes available to strike him in the face. If it had hit him half an inch lower, one of the other bondservants said, he would have been blind in one eye. As it was, though he could still see, the sight in that eye was never quite the same again.

He had to see the doctor every week. He was diagnosed with all manner of things, which he quickly came to discover were called STDs. Like the syphilis he had when he was younger, he got them from his clients, and he got a lot of them. He choked down pills and ignored the sting of a needle piercing his arm for either an injection or blood test, nodded blankly when he was pronounced clean, and sent right back to be fucked ruthlessly.

He accepted life as fact for a while. People had desires that they needed to act out, and his job was to act as a safe foil for that. He had clients who demanded he pretend they were raping him, that he was their child or sibling, that he was dead, even. He got strangled to the point that black spots swirled in front of his vision, beaten so badly at one point that he had to be given a month to recover because his ribs had been reduced almost to dust. For a good year, he accepted that life just threw certain things at you. Everyone had a role in the universe, and this was his.

But there were certain things he had learned as a child that had stuck with him. Certain things that even Hamide had taught him that he kept squirreled away at the back of his mind.

There was one woman at Kenta named Sorella. She was one of the few slaves who got a name. most of the others just got a nickname, sometimes a compliment, other times things meant to demean and belittle them. He himself got called 'Little Dove' by a lot of people, so he had accepted that as his new moniker. He was called that for his fair skin, so smooth and pale, like the feathers of a white dove's wing.

He was also called that because the bird was a symbol of peace, and he almost never put up a fight anymore, even with the roughest clients. He was the peaceful one, they said. Take him if you like submission, they said.

Sorella was lovely; she was made of warm words and bright smiles. She had yards of smooth, dark skin and long arms that she used to wrap the others up in hugs. It had taken him months before conceding and asking for a hug from her. He had always liked touch, but not the type he got nowadays. He liked the intimacy of a hug, rather than the short gratification of a sexual act. Sorella had just smiled at him like he was the most precious thing in the room, and hugged him. She made a point of doing so every time she saw him now. He adored her.

Sorella was special, the owners said, because she had gained attention from an important noble in the city, and she had his baby growing in her belly. Since he was a boy, and couldn't have children, he had barely been taught about anything except the parts that he was made to use with his clients. Sorella's swelling stomach had fascinated him. She had sat him down beside her, and explained every single thing about reproduction that she knew. It was fascinating to him, and he coveted the afternoons where he didn't have to work, and just got to sit by Sorella and listen to the things she knew.

Sorella's purpose was to carry a good, strong baby for this nobleman, the owners told him. Her purpose was to nurture the baby and grow it and then give it to the man and his infertile wife as their own child. The man's wife had dark skin just like Sorella, so no-one would assume any different. He had asked Sorella, one day, if she was upset about the fact that she would be having her baby taken away not long after it was born, but Sorella had just smiled slightly.

"No, darling. I know they will have a good home with this family, and if I do this for him, then I get a fine prize."

Freedom. That was her prize in exchange for bearing the child. The man's wife had personally promised her that, and she was known as a very honest woman. Sorella got to go free if she delivered this baby. He had been excited for her, unsure of what exactly 'freedom' entailed and why she would want it, but happy that she was getting something good regardless.

"I could convince them to let you come with me." She had murmured one afternoon, quiet as a mouse as she ran a comforting hand through his hair. "You're such a sweet boy. I know I'm not your mama, not really, but I could try my best." He had just been confused by that, and Sorella had eventually dropped the matter, going back to happily flitting around the parlour, her stomach growing by the day.

But the world was full of cruel and twisted people, people who thought that those who worked in parlours like he and Sorella did were only tools to gratification.

A man came into the parlour one day. One of his fantasies had, in his own words, been to 'fuck and choke out' a pregnant woman. Security had been low that day, because they always got less clients this time of year, so it had been reasonably assumed that less people would come in.

Sorella hadn't even gotten the chance to explain that she wasn't available. He had spent an hour beating on the door to the room the man had dragged her to, but it was locked, and there was little he could do, really.

When they had finally gotten the door open, Sorella had been lying alone on the bed, the wide-open window an indicator enough of where the man had gone. He had thought she was sleeping at first. Then he saw the garotte tied tight around her throat, and the lack of fluttery breaths he normally saw passing through her chest. They took Sorella away after that.

He had only started to realise everything after that, and he would always hate that it took someone he loved dying for him to see the reality of what he was engaged in.

Delusions were a powerful thing. He deluded himself into thinking that he was meant for this. But how could that be set in stone, sure-fire and irreversible? Sorella's purpose had been supposedly to carry a baby for the noble and his wife, and she had been raped and strangled instead.

He didn't know enough about the trade he worked in, and that was their greatest strength. If the people you owned didn't have a proper concept of what being owned meant, or how normal people lived their lives, then what reason would they have to rebel?

So, he started to look for answers.

Sorella had a younger sister, Samitha, who came to the parlour not long before her sister's death. She was nothing like Sorella; where her sister had been warmth and kindness and acceptance, Samitha was cold and bitter and harsh to everything that moved.

He came to love her just as fiercely as he had her sister. She cared not for the potential punishments. She sat him down, and told him how it was. That what they did was not normal, that most people got to choose when they had sex, and how, and who with. Most people got to stay with their parents, and didn't start to have sex or touch others intimately until they were a few years older than he was now. She explained that if what Hamide had done to him had been done to someone who was not a slave, they would have gotten thrown in prison for life.

That was something else he had to adjust to. Slave. The word slave. He wasn't a bondsperson or 'pleasure assistant', Samitha insisted, eyes sharp with determination that her words would get through to him. He was a slave. She was a slave. They were property, just as surely as the couches they sat on or the clothes they wore. They were not people under the law, so they didn't need to be treated like them. He found himself sitting up at night, trying to process everything she had told him.

In his spare time, rather than lounge around as he once would have, he set to prying away the boards that covered the windows in his room. He found one that would be covered by the curtains if they were drawn, and pried it up. He pressed his forehead to the glass and watched people go by. He saw children with their parents, young people with their lovers and friends. He watched normal life go by, and found himself more and more feeling like a twisted creature. To them, he was alien and foreign. It turned his stomach. It also helped him realise something.

He wanted to be one of those people. He wanted to be able to walk down the street without care. He wanted to be with his mama, and have a group of friends to laugh with. There were people he liked here, but they weren't friends. He shared this with Samitha, who just sighed sadly.

"I would tell you to go for it, but we both know how hopeless it is." When he had demanded to know why, why he couldn't simply walk out the front doors and never return, she had explained. "Because, boy, your bondage papers. They're a set of documents that basically say 'yeah, I'm legal property. if found return to filthy slavers'." She rolled her eyes. "If you wanna have even a miniscule chance at being one of those people out there, of being _free_ , then you'd need to get rid of them."

It was that talk with Samitha that had made him realise what freedom was. It was walking down the street when you wanted. It was not having sex with people unless you wanted to. It was what Sorella had wanted so badly, and he understood completely. And he wanted it. Wanted it and needed it like a drug addict needed their next fix. He knew he wouldn't be able to find his bondage papers. He had never been taught anything that wasn't entirely necessary, and why did a person made sheerly for fucking need to know how to read? So, he planned a rebellion in other ways.

He stopped being called 'Little Dove'. He let his skin deteriorate. He refused to rub salves into bruises to make then disappear, and his once perfect skin became a canvas of purple and black and yellow. He let people see exactly what they were doing when they came to see him. It got to a point that the number of clients he had dropped, so the owners took desperate measures. They seized him by the hair and held him down, drenching him in salves to vanish bruises. He was thrown back into the parlour, skin once more perfect and his efforts wasted. He tried rebelling in other ways.

He started to kick and claw and scream. He raked his nails across the skin of everyone who dared lay their hands on him, and lashed out bodily at everything he could. He struck necks, faces, chests, groins, hands, everything. He was dragged out into the parlour again by his hair after breaking one client's nose. The others all stared at him like he was mad, but the grin on Samitha's face was wide and feral. He had done her proud, he knew, and that fact alone was enough to make him smile.

* * *

 _4506CC  
(6 years ago)_

The idea occurred to him shortly before his sixteenth birthday. He had been maintaining his rebellious and violent behaviour for close to six months now, to the point that his owners had been giving the most violent and rough clients to him, in the hopes that it would calm him down. It never did, and it anything, he just struggled more, determined to let them wreck his body as much as they wanted, to better ruin the profit for the brothel itself.

He had been daring to crack his window open from time to time, and listening to the words filtering through. A conversation between two women had caught his attention.

"…the state of the Geldenschen? I think the Politicos are to blame, absolutely. The Libs had records of them laundering money and suddenly the whole building burns up? Record upon record, all destroyed…"

He had been kneeling by his window for what felt like an eternity before jerking the window closed and moving to sit on his bed. Fire…fire was a destructive force of nature, there was no doubt about it. Fire could tear through just about anything, including bondage papers which, as he knew from watching a team carry them around, were in paper form to prevent hacking.

He waited a week.

The plan was simple enough. He knew where the records room was, but it was always locked, unless there was a worker passing in or out, which he had to figure out. He had skimmed some money from what he had been given by clients this week, sewing the precious few notes into the hem of his most practical black pants. He had stolen a very thin brown jacket from the cloak room downstairs, and also stuffed the pockets of that with anything useful he could find. He had no idea why he had chosen to pack Hamide's handkerchief, but he ignored his own oddness and sought out Samitha the morning of.

"I'm setting the records room alight." He breathed into her ear. "5pm." She didn't respond verbally, but he saw her form straighten, her eyes glow with anticipation. Before he could go, she pressed a simple, sweet kiss to his cheek. They parted without any words needed for a farewell. Samitha had handed him all the tools he needed to seize his own freedom, now, it was time to put her wisdom to use.

Stealing a lighter had been difficult, but he had managed to do it by effectively seducing a man who stank of nicotine. The guy was much older, so, predictably, he had fallen asleep shortly after finishing. He had slipped out of bed, rummaged through his pockets and located a lighter, which he had quickly concealed under his bed. The man had gone on his way after he had woken him up, completely unaware that he had just been robbed.

It was that lighter that he held in his hands now, turning it over anxiously as he approached the records room door. He had thought the locked door would be a problem, but he had recalled a trick to unlocking doors taught to all staff after Sorella's death, and hoped that they had nothing stronger than a standard lock here.

Foolishly, they didn't, and he slipped inside, propping the door open with a small weight he had retrieved.

The room was large, filled with timber shelves lined with boxes, each box presumably full of bondage papers. He rummaged around in his pockets, withdrawing the two things that he had brought to help along the fire. He had gathered up scrunched up paper, and had also managed to snag a small, slender bottle of absinthe from the downstairs bar. It was frequently used by the bartender for her flaming drinks, so he hoped that it could act as an accelerant of sorts here.

He upended several of the boxes, darting down the rows and knocking them down, making sure to let all of the paper spill out onto the floor. Once he had run along and done the majority of the rows, he uncapped the absinthe and drizzled a little on one pile of papers, flicked the lighter on and connected the flame to the alcohol.

The effect was instantaneous, the fire spreading along the whole strip of absinthe, before rapidly spreading to the paper beneath. He watched it spread for a moment, as the flames licked along the carpet and slid up to the timber shelves. He darted away, doing the same thing maybe four more times.

He ran to the door when his head started to swim, throwing it open and darting out. He ran by his room, collecting the last of his very meagre belongings before slinging his coat on properly. An alarm, high and loud, started to shriek out as he opened his door again and stepped out into the hall. He could hear yells of shock and alarm, and felt his heart race when he saw smoke creeping along the ceiling towards him.

He hurled himself down the stairs. He couldn't see Samitha anywhere, so he assumed that she had bolted upon hearing the alarm, and decided to do the same. He was thrown shocked and confused looks as he staggered into the front room, not looking at all like a pretty sex slave and more like a disgruntled vagrant. Realisation came to their faces too slowly, though, and before they had even gotten to their feet to shout that he should be stopped, he had flown past, thrown the front doors open and staggered out into the light.

He had watched daily life on Xexei go by through his window, but that was completely different to actually standing among it and living it. he blinked in raw shock for a moment before turning to look behind him.

The entire upper right side of the brothel was on fire, the flames curling vicious and boiling into the air, smoke curling off in plumes. His eyes stung and teared up. It was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long time.

He turned his back on the brothel as it burned away, and ran.

* * *

As hard as living as a sex slave was, it was almost harder to live on the streets. News of the Kenta fire spread far and wide across the city. He had heard that multiple slaves had run for the hills, and that there was officially a hit out for anyone with a Kenta brand.

He had been given a tattoo not long after arriving there, on his left inside wrist, over the blue veins. He had always hated it, but he wished now more than ever that he had never been given it. He had to hide it at all times, lest the sharp eyes of a passing civilian catch it and turn him in, for him to get beaten and raped once more.

He had hoarded his money like a dragon with its treasures ever since escaping. He knew he had barely any, and that he needed to be careful with it. It wasn't going to last forever, and he needed to stretch it as far as it could go.

But even before he thought about food, he had to think about his identity.

He was no longer a slave; he had escaped, and his bondage papers were no more than ashes by now. Legally, he belonged to no-one. Yet, he legally wasn't a person either. He was neither property nor an individual. Right now, he sat in the odd limbo between person and possession, and he intended to fix that as quickly as possible. Firstly, he had to remove his tattoo.

It was unbelievably stupid of him, but he managed to pull it off. A drunk man had thrown a vodka bottle and smashed it not far from where he had curled up for the night. From there, it was a move of opportunity. It was going to hurt, and probably get infected, but that didn't stop him from digging into his skin with the glass and scraping away the section of skin on his wrist that held the tattoo.

He felt light-headed enough afterwards that he feared he was going to die, but he still woke up a few hours later, wrist crusted with blood and a shard of glass clutched in his hand. He washed himself off in a nearby fountain as he could, wrapping his injured wrist up with a scrap of fabric from the bottom of his shirt.

About two days later, when he could move his hand without his vision going black with pain momentarily, he got directions from a friendly passer-by to the registration office.

The foyer was very clean, very orderly, and he immediately felt out of place. While at Kenta he had been bathed and perfumed constantly, and dressed in silks and golden chains, he couldn't look more different now. He was dressed in a ratty shirt and even rattier pants, with a coat about five sizes too large, hair askew over his shoulders, and no shoes. He looked like a corpse, and probably smelled even worse, but to her credit, the woman at the front desk didn't make any comments about it, simply telling him to take a seat and wait for one of the registrars to serve him.

He was called into an office occupied by a desk and bookshelf, as well as an impressive computer system. The woman seated behind it had caramel skin, black hair and a professional smile that shifted into something more sympathetic when she saw him. She had a name tag clipped to her shirt, but the symbols meant nothing to him. He already couldn't read Xeir characters, much less Common Standard words.

She introduced herself as Emmalina Francis, and told him she had long worked in registering people for the Index. He made up a few throwaway lies about not having the ability to get himself registered until now, which he doubted she believed, but didn't question. Everything seemed to be going smoothly, until she asked to see his wrist. He froze up, feigning confusion and trying to show her his right wrist before she specified that she needed to see the left.

"There was a breakout of slaves from the Kenta brothel recently. We've been instructed to carefully review any individuals seeking registration until the end of the year." He had practically felt his future falling away as he conceded and showed her his right wrist. Though bandaged, some blood had soaked through, and it was very clear to anyone with the right context in mind what must have happened to it.

Emmalina examined him for a moment, nodding to herself. "I see. So, given that you were a slave, I take it you don't have a name. You will need one for all official papers, of course. Did you have anything in mind?" he stared at her as she stared back, fingers poised over her keyboard.

"…What?" he had breathed out. Emmalina folded her hands together, a touch of mischief coming into her expression, like the two of them were in on some sort of funny joke.

" _Officially_ , we are supposed to report any suspicious individuals who may be escaped slaves. But, between you and I, I've never much liked those slavers anyway. So," she repeated, moving her hands back to her keyboard, "did you have any names in mind?"

She maintained her professional air even as he broke down crying, murmuring his thanks, she just smiled softly, handed him the tissue box sitting by her computer and waited for him to calm down. When he managed to recollect himself and consider her question, though, he had no idea. He had put so much thought to actually becoming a free man that he had never considered what he would call himself. He didn't have a name now. The name that old Jiseong had given him felt wrong and ill-fitting, so he discarded it immediately.

"Why don't we brainstorm surnames for now?" Emmalina suggested when she spotted his indecision. "I can just bring up a surnames list and see if you like any of them." She smiled at his nod, before scrutinising him. "Hmm, you look Rywanese or Pyndaphian, so something along those lines might be more convincing." She obviously pulled up a website for him, and began reading off a long list. He considered each, shaking his head at every single one until one stuck out to him.

"Wait…that last one, can you repeat it please?" he asked quietly. Nodding, she scrolled back up.

"Ahh, here it is. Bonnefoy?" she said it again, and he drank in the sound of it, repeating it. Emmalina smiled at the look on his face, and had started typing it into his forms before he had even nodded in confirmation. "That's a good one. Rywanese, too, so it'll suit your looks." He smiled properly. No good first names had yet to come to mind, though, so she moved on to his birthdate. He couldn't remember his own, but he did remember that he was sixteen now. He chose a random date, and she plugged it into his emerging legal profile.

They repeated the same process for first names that they had done for surnames, but as Emmalina went on, he found his attention shifting elsewhere. He couldn't believe this woman. She was doing something illegal just to help him out.

"Oh yes, this dumb shit." Emmalina cursed at her screen as something popped up. She glanced over at him, taking in his confused look before explaining. "There's a 150 mark registration fee. The machine loves to remind me that it has to be paid." He felt his stomach drop, and he was about to apologise for wasting her time and slip away, because he wasn't good with counting, but he knew for a fact that he didn't have 150 marks, but before he got the chance, she opened a drawer, slid out a small plastic card, typed something into the computer and hummed in satisfaction. As she returned it to the drawer, he realised it was a bank card. She had just paid for his registration fee.

"I can't let you…" he trailed off as she looked over at him.

"No offence Bonnefoy," she said, and damn if the sound of his new surname didn't make his heart soar, "but you look like you need every cent you can find." He gawked at her as she turned back to the computer, eyes tearing up again as it finally came to him.

"I know what name I want now." He murmured. Emmalina smiled, fingers poised over the keys. He sniffled. "Francis. After the woman who gave me countless things she didn't need to." Emmalina stilled, the sound of her surname being his pick obviously stunning her. Swallowing, she typed it in, ran her gaze over the page and nodded.

"Okay, it's all filled it." she said, submitting the form. "It'll print in about a minute." She looked over at him, shook her head slightly and got up from her chair, moving around the desk to lean down in front of him. "Listen, kiddo, just take care of yourself, and I will consider that payment enough." Sniffing, he nodded again. Smiling now, she stood and moved over to the official printing machine, which was spitting out his official records. One copy came out, to be put on file and added to the Index, and the other was wrapped in a waterproof folder, slipped into a linen bag and handed to him. He grasped it in shaking hands. Emmalina smiled, then jerked her head at him. "Go on, Francis."

He knew he was returning to the streets, to be hungry and cold and filthy, but he was a free human. He was a free man, for the first time in his life, and the feeling was exhilarating. He nodded, still holding back tears, and marched out of the registration office with his head held high.


End file.
